#EnglishWriters
From the winter’s grey despair, From the summer’s golden languor, Death, the lover of Life, Frees us for ever. Inevitable, silent, unseen,
Where forlorn sunsets flare and fa… On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange comma… Calling you still, as friend calls…
Praise the generous gods for givin… In a world of wrath and strife, With a little time for living, Unto all the joy of life. At whatever source we drink it,
Bring her again, O western wind, Over the western sea! Gentle and good and fair and kind, Bring her again to me! Not that her fancy holds me dear,
O, Time and Change, they range an… From sunshine round to thunder! - They glance and go as the great wi… And the best of our dreams drive u… For Time and Change estrange, est…
A black and glassy float, opaque a… The loch, at furthest ebb supine i… Reversing, mirrored in its luminou… The calm grey skies; the solemn sp… Heather, and corn, and wisps of lo…
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance
What have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere,
Army Reserve; a worshipper of Bob… With whom he stripped the smock fr… Neat as his mount, that neatest am… Whenever pageants pass, or meeting… He moves conspicuous, vigilant, se…
Space and dread and the dark - Over a livid stretch of sky Cloud-monsters crawling, like a fu… Of huge, primeval presences Stooping beneath the weight
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pol… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance
Like as a flamelet blanketed in sm… So through the anaesthetic shows m… So flashes and so fades my thought… With the strong stupor that I hea… And sicken at, it is so foully swe…
Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…
Madam Life’s a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She’s the tenant of the room, He’s the ruffian on the stair. You shall see her as a friend,