#EnglishWriters
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…
After night’s thunder far away had… The fiery day had a kernel sweet o… And in the perfect blue the clouds… Like the first gods before they ma… And misery, swimming the stormless…
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;
‘Twill take some getting.’ ‘Sir,… The old man stared up at the mistl… That hung too high in the poplar’s… Of any climber, though not for kis… Then he went on against the north-…
She is most fair, And when they see her pass The poets’ ladies Look no more in the glass But after her.
IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour
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…
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…
OUT of the wood of thoughts that… To be cut down by the sharp ax of… Out of the night, two cocks togeth… Cleaving the darkness with a silve… And brought before my eyes twin tr…
‘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…
Dark is the forest and deep, and o… Hang stars like seeds of light In vain, though not since they wer… Anything more bright. And evermore mighty multitudes rid…
They should never have built a bar… Drip, drip, drip! - under that elm… Though when it was young. Now it… But good, not like the barn and me… To-morrow they cut it down. They…
Out in the sun the goldfinch flits Along the thistle-tops, flits and… Above the hollow wood Where birds swim like fish - Fish that laugh and shriek -
WHAT does it mean? Tired, angry,… No man, woman, or child alive coul… Me now. And yet I almost dare to… Because I sit and frame an epitap… ‘Here lies all that no one loved o…
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…