Author Notes
‘Riddles’ was the boyish nickname given to Lieutenant S.G. Ridley of the Royal Flying Corps, a lad of twenty, who was reported to have lost his life in the Egyptian Desert while trying to save the life of a comrade.
#EnglishWriters
The raining hour is done, And, threaded on the bough, The May-buds in the sun Are shining emeralds now. As transitory these
I went beneath the sunny sky– When all things bowed to June’s d… The pansy with its steadfast eye, The blue shells on the lupin spire… The swelling fruit along the bough…
I do not think that skies and mead… Moral, or that the fixture of a st… Comes of a quiet spirit, or that t… Have wisdom in their windless sile… Yet these are things invested in m…
I never went to Mamble that lies above the Teme, so I wonder who’s in Mamble, and whether people seem who breed and brew along there
Black in the summer night my Cotw… Aslant my window sleeps, beneath a… Deep as the bedded violets that fi… March woods with dusky passion. A… Abed between cool walls I watch t…
God laughed when he made Grafton That’s under Bredon Hill, A jewel in a jewelled plain. The seasons work their will On golden thatch and crumbling sto…
Ringed high with turf the arena li… The neighbouring world unseen, unh… Here are but unhorizoned skies, And on the skies a passing bird, The conies and a wandering sheep,
THINK not that mystery has place In the obscure and veiled face, Or when the midnight watches are Uncompanied of moon or star, Or where the fields and forests li…
Now June walks on the waters, And the cuckoo’s last enchantment Passes from Olton pools. Now dawn comes to my window Breathing midsummer roses,
For peace, than knowledge more des… Into your Sussex quietness I came… When summer’s green and gold and a… Over the world in flame. And peace upon your pasture lands…
At April’s end, when blossoms bre… To birth upon my apple-tree, I know the certain year will take Full harvest of this infancy. At April’s end, when comes the de…
He was a man with wide and patient… Grey, like the drift of twitch-fir… That, without fearing, searched if… Might threaten from your heart. G… Under a brow was drawn because he…
When you deliberate the page Of Alexander’s pilgrimage, Or say —'It is three years, or te… Since Easter slew Connolly’s men,… Or prudently to judgment come
Sometimes the ghosts forgotten go Along the hill-top way, And with long scythes of silver mo… Meadows of moonlit hay, Until the cocks of Cotswold crow
Time gathers to my name; Along the ways wheredown my feet h… I see the years with little triump… Exulting not for perils dared, dow… And weary-eyed and desolate for sh…