COME then, let us at least know… Let us not blink our eyes and say We did not understand; old age or… Benumbed our sense or stole our si… It is a lie—just that, a lie—to de…
YOU are at least a Man, of men a… You have a heart, and with that he… The race you come from is not gend… The filthy sty whose latest litter… Round England’s flesh-pots, gorge…
UP from the oven pit, The hell where poor men toil, At the sunset hour he comes Clean-clothed, washed from soil. On the fo’c’s’le head he kneels,
BRUTE beast, at last you have it… Truth’s not a phrase, justice an i… Your life ran red with murder, gre… Blood has washed blood clean, and… Your carrion will be purified. Ye…
(Mindanao, Philippines) IN the dark waveless sea, Deep blue under deep blue, The fisher drifts by on the tide In his small pole-balanced canoe.
To Mary Robinson ‘WHAT, are you lost, you pretty… This is no place for such sweet th… Our bodies, rank with sweat, will… And, you’ll observe, our lives are…
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,
DOWN in the woodlands, where the… Close to the breezy river, by the… Of ferns and flowers that shun the… But gather round the lizard-haunte… And listen to the birds’ sweet syl…
(Song of the American Sons of La… The Song O WE knew so well, dear Father, When we answered to your call, And the Southern Moloch stricken
A Memory LITTLE elfin maid, Old, though scarce two years, With your big dark hazel eyes Tenderer than tears,
Death? is it death you give? So b… thou hast been long my friend,… cool cheek shall have my kiss, whi… expires on thy still lips, O lovel… Come then, loose hands, fair Life…
CROUCHED in the terrible land, The circle of pitiless ice, With frozen bloody feet And her pestilential summer’s Fever-throb in her brow,
O INDIA, India, O my lovely la… At whose sweet throat the greedy… With fangs and lips that suck and… Clings, while around thee, band by… The loathsome Shape twists, chain…
YOU tell me these great lords hav… I say they have degraded it. Look… When ever did they let the Poet s… The Painter paint, the Sculptor h… The Music raise her heavenly voic…
AT anchor in that harbour of the… The Chinese Gate, We lay where, terraced under green… The Sea-town sate. Ships, steamers, sailers, many a f…