#English #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
My face is against the grass– the… My eyes are shut against the grass… Over my head the curlews call, An… My heart is against the grass and… It does not want to beat any more,
White, through the gate it gleamed… In shattered sunshine. The parche… Their scarlet petals from the beds… Like children unloved and ill-kept Dreamed through the hours Two blu…
From our low seat beside the fire Where we have dozed and dreamed an… Or raked the ashes, stopping so We scarcely saw the sun or rain Above, or looked much higher
They are cutting down the great pl… For days there has been the grate… The crash of the trunks, the rustl… With the ‘Whoops’ and the ‘Whoas,… I remember one evening of a long p…
I so liked Spring last year Because you were here;- The thrushes too– Because it was these you so liked… I so liked you.
To-night again the moon’s white ma… Stretches across the dormitory flo… While outside, like an evil cat The pion prowls down the dark corr… Planning, I know, to pounce on me…
Sometimes I know the way You walk, up over the bay; It is a wind from that far sea That blows the fragrance of your h… Or in this garden when the breeze
Sweetheart, for such a day One mustn’t grudge the score; Here, then, it’s all to pay, It’s Good-night at the door. Good-night and good dreams to you,…
It is the clay what makes the eart… He fills in holes like this year a… The others have gone; they were ti… But I would rather be standing he… There is nowhere else to go. I ha…
My heart is lame with running afte… Such a long way, Shall we walk slowly home, looking… Perhaps to-day? Home down the quiet evening roads…
Tide be runnin’ the great world ov… ’Twas only last June month I mind… Was thinkin’ the toss and the call… So everlastin’ as the sea. Heer’s the same little fishes that…
Not for that city of the level sun… Its golden streets and glittering… The shadeless, sleepless city of w… White nights, or nights and days t… We weary, when all is said, all th…
Remember me and smile, as smiling… I have remembered things that went… The dolls with which I grew too w… Or over-wise—kissed, as children d… And so dismissed them; yes, even a…
Who thinks of June’s first rose t… Only some child, perhaps, with shi… rough bright hair will reach it do… In a green sunny lane, to us almos… As are the fearless stars from the…
Sometimes in the over-heated house… Smirking and speaking rather loud, I see myself among the crowd, Where no one fits the singer to hi… Or sifts the unpainted from the pa…