#English #Women
Metallic waves of people jar Through crackling green toward the… Where on the tables chattering-whi… The sharp drinks quarrel with the… Those coloured muslin blinds the s…
BENEATH the flat and paper sky The sun, a demon’s eye, Glowed through the air, that mask… All wand’ring sounds that pass Seemed out of tune, as if the ligh…
Cried the navy-blue ghost Of Mr. Belaker The allegro Negro cocktail-shaker… “Why did the cock crow, Why am I lost,
The carriage brushes through the b… Leaves (violent jets from life to… Strong polished speed is plunging,… Between the showers of bright hot… The window-glasses glaze our faces
Mid this hot green glowing gloom A word falls with a raindrop’s boo… Like baskets of ripe fruit in air The bird-songs seem, suspended whe… Those goldfinches—the ripe warm li…
SAID the Lion to the Lioness-'W… No more a raging fire like the hea… (No liking but all lust)– Remember still the flowering of th… The rippling of bright muscles lik…
Enobles the heart and the eyes, and unveils the meaning of all thi… upon which the heart and the eyes… It discovers the secret rays of th… and restores to us forgotten parad…
Across the fields as green as spin… Cropped as close as Time to Green… Stands a high house; if at all, Spring comes like a Paisley shawl… Patternings meticulous
JANE, Jane, Tall as a crane, The morning light creaks down agai… Comb your cockscomb-ragged hair, Jane, Jane, come down the stair.
Lovely Semiramis Closes her slanting eyes: Dead is she long ago, From her fan sliding slow Parrot-bright fire’s feathers
LOVELY Semiramis Closes her slanting eyes: Dead is she long ago. From her fan, sliding slow, Parrot-bright fire’s feathers,
CAME the great Popinjay Smelling his nosegay: In cages like grots The birds sang gavottes. ‘Herodiade’s flea
ACROSS the flat and the pastel… Two people go . . . . ‘And do you… When last we wandered this shore?’… For it is cold-hearted December.’ ‘Dead, the leaves that like asses’…
Do not take a bath in Jordan, Gor… On the holy Sabbath, on the peace… Said the huntsman, playing on his… Boring to death the pheasant and t… Boring the ptarmigan and grouse fo…
WHEN cold December Froze to grisamber The jangling bells on the sweet ro… Then fading slow And furred is the snow