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.
#English
Merely the moonlight Piercing the boughs of my may-tree… Falling upon my ferns; Only the night Touching my ferns with silver bloo…
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…
To-day I have talked with old Eur… Shakespeare this morning sang for… Of chimney-sweepers; through the… Comes beating still the nightingal… The Tabard ales to-day are freshl…
I have a place in a little garden, That laurel-leaf and fern Keep a cool place though fires of… All the green grasses burn. Little cool winds creep there abou…
“Hush!” was my whisper At the stair-top When the waggoners were down below Home from the barley-crop. Through the high window
I know the pools where the graylin… I know the trees where the filbert… I know the woods where the red fox… The twisted elms where the brown o… And I’ve seldom a shilling to cal…
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…
High up in the sky there, now, you… In this May twilight, our cottage… Tenantless, and no creature there… Near it but Mrs. Fry’s fat cows,… Dove-coloured, as is Cotswold. No…
He comes on chosen evenings, My blackbird bountiful, and sings Over the gardens of the town Just at the hour the sun goes down… His flight across the chimneys thi…
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
At the top of the house the apples… And the skylight lets the moonligh… Apples are deep-sea apples of gree… A cloud on the moon in the autumn… A mouse in the wainscot scratches,…
Wind and the robin’s note to—day— Have heard of autumn and betray The green long reign of summer. The rust is falling in the leaves, September stands beside the sheave…
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
Come, sweetheart, listen, for I h… Most wonderful to tell you —news o… Albeit winter still is in the air, And the earth troubled, and the br… Yet down the fields to-day I saw…
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…