#EnglishWriters
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…
To-day I think Only with scents, - scents dead le… And bracken, and wild carrot’s see… And the square mustard field; Odours that rise
he summer nests uncovered by autum… Some torn, others dislodged, all d… Everyone sees them: low or high in… Or hedge, or single bush, they han… Since there’s no need of eyes to s…
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…
IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour
WHEN first I came here I had ho… Hope for I knew not what. Fast be… My heart at the sight of the tall… Or grass and yews, as if my feet Only by scaling its steps of chalk
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
It was upon a July evening. At a stile I stood, looking along… Over the country by a second Spri… Drenched perfect green again. ‘Th… Will be a fine one.’ So the stran…
Like the touch of rain she was On a man’s flesh and hair and eyes When the joy of walking thus Has taken him by surprise: With the love of the storm he burn…
Four miles at a leap, over the dar… To the frosted steep of the down a… Travels my eye with equal ease and… And scarce could my body leap four… This is the best and the worst of…
The green roads that end in the fo… Are strewn with white goose feathe… Life marks left behind by someone… To show his track. But he has nev… Down each green road a cottage loo…
An acre of land between the shore… Upon a ledge that shows my kingdom… The lovely visible earth and sky a… Where what the curlew needs not, t… A house that shall love me as I l…
A fortnight before Christmas Gyps… Vans were drawn up on wastes, wome… ‘My gentleman,’ said one, 'you’ve… ‘And you’ve a luckier,' I thought… And impudence in rags are lucky.’…
She is most fair, And when they see her pass The poets’ ladies Look no more in the glass But after her.
As the team’s head-brass flashed o… The lovers disappeared into the wo… I sat among the boughs of the fall… That strewed the angle of the fall… Watched the plough narrowing a yel…