#EnglishWriters
f I were to own this countryside As far as a man in a day could rid… And the Tyes were mine for giving… Wingle Tye and Margaretting Tye, - and Skreens, Gooshays, and…
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,
I never saw that land before, And now can never see it again; Yet, as if by acquaintance hoar Endeared, by gladness and by pain, Great was the affection that I bo…
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…
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…
No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through
Often and often it came back again To mind, the day I passed the hor… To a new country, the path I had… By half-gaps that were stiles once… The pack of scarlet clouds running…
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…
TALL nettles cover up, as they h… These many springs, the rusty harr… Long worn out, and the roller made… Only the elm butt tops the nettles… This corner of the farmyard I lik…
The dim sea glints chill. The whi… And the skeleton weeds and the nev… Rough, long grasses keep white wit… At the hill-top by the finger-post… The smoke of the traveller’s-joy i…
IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour
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…
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…
Under the after-sunset sky Two pewits sport and cry, More white than is the moon on hig… Riding the dark surge silently; More black than earth. Their cry