#EnglishWriters
Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and s… Of linen, go the chaunting chorist… The priests in gold and black, the… And all along the path to the ceme…
The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, ma… Everything, tear-trembling stars o… And the snore of the night in my e… For suddenly, flush-fallen,
What large, dark hands are those a… Lifted, grasping the golden light Which weaves its way through the c… To my heart’s delight? Ah, only the leaves! But in the w…
If you make a revolution, make it… don’t make it in ghastly seriousne… don’t do it in deadly earnest, do it for fun. Don’t do it because you hate peopl…
The new red houses spring like pla… In level rows Of reddish herbage that bristles a… Its square shadows. The pink young houses show one sid…
Oh the green glimmer of apples in… Lamps in a wash of rain! Oh the wet walk of my brown hen th… Oh tears on the window pane! Nothing now will ripen the bright…
Many years have I still to burn,… Like a candle flame on this body;… A darkness within me, a presence w… In my flame of living, her soul en… And through these years, while I…
Too far away, oh love, I know, To save me from this haunted road, Whose lofty roses break and blow On a night—sky bent with a load Of lights: each solitary rose,
This is the last of all, this is t… I must hold my hands, and turn my… I must watch my dead days fusing t… Shape after shape, and scene after… Fusing to one dead mass in the sin…
The quick sparks on the gorse—bush… Little jets of sunlight texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They have triumphed again o’er the… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
Since I lost you I am silence—hau… Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings… Whether the people in the street
Patience, little Heart. One day a heavy, June—hot woman Will enter and shut the door to st… And when your stifling heart would… Cool, lonely night, her roused bre…
YOU promised to send me some viol… White ones and blue ones from unde… Sweet dark purple, and white ones… Of our early love that hardly has… Here there’s an almond tree—you ha…
When the autumn roses Are heavy with dew, Before the mist discloses The leaf’s brown hue, You would, among the laughing hill…
The profoundest of all sensualitie… is the sense of truth and the next deepest sensual exper… is the sense of justice.