#EnglishWriters
I can’t stand Willy Wet—Leg, Can’t stand him at any price. He’s resigned, and when you hit hi… he lets you hit him twice.
Love has crept out of her sealéd h… As a field-bee, black and amber, Breaks from the winter-cell, to cl… Up the warm grass where the sunbea… Mischief has come in her dawning e…
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is si… Taking me back down the vista of y… A child sitting under the piano, i… And pressing the small, poised fee… In spite of myself, the insidious…
A snake came to my water—trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjam… To drink there. In the deep, strange—scented shade… I came down the steps with my pitc…
The train in running across the we… So even, it beats like silence, an… Embrace of darkness lie around, an… And littered lettering of leaves a… The open book of landscape no more…
We’ve made a great mess of love Since we made an ideal of it. The moment I swear to love a woma… That moment I begin to hate her. The moment I even say to a woman:…
Ah, my darling, when over the purp… The shrouded mother of a new idea,… Cry out and fend her off, as she s… Wounding themselves against her, d…
There are four men mowing down by… I can hear the swish of the scythe… Sharp breaths taken: yea, and I Am sorry for what’s in store. The first man out of the four that…
If I could have put you in my hea… If but I could have wrapped you i… How glad I should have been! And now the chart Of memory unrolls again to me
Close your eyes, my love, let me m… They have taught you to see Only a mean arithmetic on the face… A cunning algebra in the faces of… And God like geometry
A wind comes from the north Blowing little flocks of birds Like spray across the town, And a train, roaring forth, Rushes stampeding down
The profoundest of all sensualitie… is the sense of truth and the next deepest sensual exper… is the sense of justice.
The quick sparks on the gorse bush… Little jets of sunlight—texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They are lords of the desolate was… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
The quick sparks on the gorse—bush… Little jets of sunlight texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They have triumphed again o’er the… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
The new red houses spring like pla… In level rows Of reddish herbage that bristles a… Its square shadows. The pink young houses show one sid…