#AustralianWriters
My darling lies down in her soft w… And she laughs at me. Her laughter has flushed her pale… Her eyes dance with glee. My darling lies close in her warm…
Each day I sit in an ill-lighted… To teach a boy; For one hour by the clock great wo… Are our employ. We read St Agnes’ Eve and that m…
Dearest, dearest, Bother the slow hours That hold and keep me From the leafy bowers You make more lovely than a storm…
Flowers have uncountable ways of p… Not solid, but moonlight or sunlig… Primroses strive for the colour of… Dew-besprent. Freesias are flames wherein light…
I dare not leave the splendid town To go where morning meadows are, For somewhere here the Future’s h… In factory, shop, or liquor bar. And when the picture shows are clo…
I like the riders Clad in rose and blue; Their colours glitter And their horses too. Swift go the riders
‘I used to have dozens of handkerc… Of finest lawn. I used to have silk shirts and fin… He’s like a faun This darling out-at-elbows Irish…
O you, dear trees, you have learne… You must have studied this only th… Men have thought of God and laugh… And of love. And of song. But you, dear trees, from your bir…
Sometimes I think the happiest of… Is the blest moment of release fro… The world once more is all one’s o… Upon one’s own and not another’s p… And each poor heart imprisoned by…
I have a sister whom God gave to… He formed her out of trouble and t… Like Aphrodite, she came to me fu… Oh, I am blest forever with a sis…
O little year, cram full of duty, Rapture and sorrow, too, Show me the way from old paths of… Into the fields of dew. Strange lorn fields where the moon…
When I am so worn out I cannot sl… And yet I know I have to work nex… Or lose my job, I sometimes have… To one long dead, who listens when… I ask Saint Rose of Lima for the…
When I go up to work the young bl… Has not awaked from dreams: It fades to meet the blue sky mist… It gleams. I say,
When I am making poetry I’m good And happy then. I live in a deep world of angelhoo… Afar from men. And all the great and bright and f…
When I was still a child I thought my love would be Noble, truthful, brave, And very kind to me. Then all the novels said