#EnglishWriters
The two men in the road were taken… The lovers came out shading their… And never was white so white, or b… As her cheeks and hair. ‘There ar… A man might turn into a wood for,…
The cherry trees bend over and are… On the old road where all that pas… Their petals, strewing the grass a… This early May morn when there is…
There they stand, on their ends, t… That once were underwood of hazel… In Jenny Pink’s copse. Now, by t… Close packed, they make a thicket… Can creep through with the mouse a…
Harry, you know at night The larks in Castle Alley Sing from the attic’s height As if the electric light Were the true sun above a summer v…
This ploughman dead in battle slep… Many a frozen night, and merrily Answered staid drinkers, good bedm… “At Mrs Greenland’s Hawthorn Bus… “I slept.” None knew which bush.…
Thinking of her had saddened me at… Until I saw the sun on the celand… Redoubled, and she stood up like a… A living thing, not what before I… The shadow I was growing to love…
RUNNING along a bank, a parapet That saves from the precipitous wo… The level road, there is a path.… Children for looking down the long… Between the legs of beech and yew,…
Mother, the root of this little ye… Among the stones has the taste of… Things are strange to-day on the c… And the grasshopper works at his s… So hard. Here’s one on my hand, m…
As the clouds that are so light, Beautiful, swift, and bright, Cast shadows on field and park Of the earth that is so dark, And even so now, light one!
Seated once by a brook, watching a… Chiefly that paddled, I was thus… Mellow the blackbird sang and shar… Not far off in oak and hazel brush… Unseen. There was a scent like ho…
Women he liked, did shovel-bearded… Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath,… Loved horses. He himself was like… And leather-coloured. Also he lov… For the life in them he loved most…
To-day I want the sky, The tops of the high hills, Above the last man’s house, His hedges, and his cows, Where, if I will, I look
The rain of a night and a day and… Stops at the light Of this pale choked day. The peer… Sees what has been done. The road under the trees has a bor…
Over the land freckled with snow h… The speculating rooks at their nes… And saw from elm-tops, delicate as… What we below could not see, Wint…
That’s the cuckoo, you say. I can… When last I heard it I cannot rec… Too well the year when first I fa… It was drowned by my man groaning… Ten times with an angry voice he s…