BEYOND the Night, down o’er the… I see light’s harbinger of day rel… Upon the false gleam of the ante-d… Lo, the fair heaven of sun-pursuin… Beyond the lampless sleep and peri…
THRO’ the mists of years, Thro’ the lies of men, Your bloody sweat and tears, Your desperate hopes and fears Reach us once again,
‘WE sow the fertile seed and then… We thresh the golden grain; we kne… Others that eat are glad. In stor… While we hunger outside with heart… Hallelujah!
I SAW them as they were born, Erect and fearless and free, Facing the sun and the wind Of the hills and the sea. I saw them naked, superb,
Men and boys, O fathers, brothers… Burst these fetters round you boun… Women, sisters, wives and mothers, Lift your faces from the ground! O Democracy, O People,
IN the chill grey summer dawn-lig… We pass through the empty streets; The rattling wheels are all silent… No friend his fellow greets. Here and there, at the corners,
CRUEL City, London, London, Where, duped slaves of devils’ cre… Men and women desperate, undone, Dream such dreams, and do such dee… London, London, cruel city,
SIMPLE You were, and good. No… Beat than the heart within your ge… Labour You had, and happiness, an… And were the maid of nations. Now… To feverish life, feeling the pois…
CROUCHED in the terrible land, The circle of pitiless ice, With frozen bloody feet And her pestilential summer’s Fever-throb in her brow,
(After reading his 'Modern Painte… YES, you do well to mock us, you Who knew our bitter woe ' To jeer the false, deny the true In us blind-struggling low,
He asked me of my friend– “a cleve… Such various talent, business, jou… A pen that might some day have sen… From our greatest newspapers.”– “… All this,” I said.– “And yet he w…
‘Susannah and Mary-Jane’ TWO little Darlings alone, Clinging hand in hand; Two little Girls come out To see the wonderful land!
WAS it for nothing in the years g… O my love, O my friend, You thrilled me with your noble wo… Hope beyond life, and love, love b… Yet now I shudder, and yet you di…
In a Sampan (Min River, Fo Kien) Up in the misty morning, Up past the gardened hills, With the rhythmic stroke of the ro…
‘YES, let Art go, if it must be That with it men must starve ’ If Music, Painting, Poetry Spring from the wasted hearth!’ Yes, let Art go, till once again