#EnglishWriters
Last night a thief came to me And struck at me with something da… I cried, but no one could hear me, I lay dumb and stark. When I awoke this morning
The moon is broken in twain, and h… Before me lies on the still, pale… The other half of the broken coin… Is buried away in the dark, where… They buried her half in the grave…
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…
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,…
If you make a revolution, make it… don’t make it in ghastly seriousne… don’t do it in deadly earnest, do it for fun. Don’t do it because you hate peopl…
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;
How beastly the bourgeois is especially the male of the species… Presentable, eminently presentable… shall I make you a present of him? Isn’t he handsome? Isn’t he healt…
There are only two things now, The great black night scooped out And this fireglow. This fireglow, the core, And we the two ripe pips
SAD as he sits on the white sea-s… And the suave sea chuckles, and tu… And the moon significant smiles at… He sits like a shade by the flood… While I dance a tarantella on the…
On he goes, the little one, Bud of the universe, Pediment of life. Setting off somewhere, apparently. Whither away, brisk egg?
Do you remember How night after night swept level… Overhead, at home, and had not one… Nor one narrow gate for the moon t… Forth to her field of November.
Round clouds roll in the arms of t… The round earth rolls in a clasp o… And see, where the budding hazels… The wild anemones lie In undulating shivers beneath the…
Making his advances He does not look at her, nor sniff… No, not even sniff at her, his nos… Only he senses the vulnerable fold… That work beneath her while she sp…
Since I lost you I am silence—hau… Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings… Whether the people in the street
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the love of the sun for a… He creates with his shine.