#EnglishWriters
How beastly the bourgeois is especially the male of the species… Presentable, eminently presentable… shall I make you a present of him? Isn’t he handsome? Isn’t he healt…
Making his advances He does not look at her, nor sniff… No, not even sniff at her, his nos… Only he senses the vulnerable fold… That work beneath her while she sp…
Now and again All my body springs alive, And the life that is polarised in… That quivers between my eyes and m… Flies like a wild thing across my…
The frost has settled down upon th… And ruthlessly strangled off the f… Of leaves that have gone unnoticed… Romantic stories now no more to be… The trees down the boulevard stand…
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;
You know what it is to be born alo… Baby tortoise! The first day to heave your feet l… Not yet awake, And remain lapsed on earth,
It ought to be lovely to be old to be full of the peace that comes… and wrinkled ripe fulfilment. The wrinkled smile of completeness… lived undaunted and unsoured with…
When the autumn roses Are heavy with dew, Before the mist discloses The leaf’s brown hue, You would, among the laughing hill…
My love looks like a girl to—night… But she is old. The plaits that lie along her pill… Are not gold, But threaded with filigree silver,
Butterfly, the wind blows sea—ward… strong beyond the garden—wall! Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, Lifting your veined wings, lifting…
THE clouds are pushing in grey re… While north of them all, at the fa… With fire as it guards the wild no… The rocks where ravens flying to w… You should be out by the orchard,…
The train in running across the we… So even, it beats like silence, an… Embrace of darkness lie around, an… And littered lettering of leaves a… The open book of landscape no more…
Mournfully to and fro, to and fro… What did you say, my dear? The rain-bruised leaves are sudden… Asleep still shakes in the clutch… Yes, my love, I hear.
Ah, you stack of white lilies, all… A am adrift as a sunbeam, and with… Or having, save I light on you to… Your pallor into radiance, flush y… White beauty into incandescence: y…
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…