#EnglishWriters
NOW first, as I shut the door, I was alone In the new house; and the wind Began to moan. Old at once was the house,
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but t… On this bleak hut, and solitude, a… Remembering again that I shall di… And neither hear the rain nor give… For washing me cleaner than I hav…
t stood in the sunset sky Like the straight-backed down, Many a time - the barn At the edge of town, So huge and dark that it seemed
One hour: as dim he and his house… As a reflection in a rippling broo… While I remember him; but first,… Empty it sounded. It was dark wit… That brushed the walls and made th…
The skylarks are far behind that s… I can hear no more those suburb ni… Thrushes and blackbirds sing in th… In vain: the noise of man, beast,… But the call of children in the un…
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…
Is this the road that climbs above… Round what was once a chalk-pit: n… By accident an amphitheatre. Some ash trees standing ankle-deep… And bramble act the parts, and nei…
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…
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…
‘He rolls in the orchard: he is st… And with earth, the solitary old w… Where is his father and where is h… Among all the brown horses? Has h… I know the swallow, the hawk, and…
Often I had gone this way before But now it seemed I never could b… And never had been anywhere else; ’Twas home; one nationality We had, I and the birds that sang…
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…
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…
Not the end: but there’s nothing m… Sweet Summer and Winter rude I have loved, and friendship and l… The crowd and solitude: But I know them: I weary not;
There was a weasel lived in the su… With all his family, Till a keeper shot him with his gu… And hung him up on a tree, Where he swings in the wind and ra…