#EnglishWriters
When did you start your tricks Monsieur? What do you stand on such high leg… Why this length of shredded shank You exaltation?
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…
I have opened the window to warm m… Where the sunlight soaks in the st… Is full of dreams, my love, the bo… In a wistful dream of Lorna Doone… The clink of the shunting engines…
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…
Now and again All my body springs alive, And the life that is polarised in… That quivers between my eyes and m… Flies like a wild thing across my…
I felt the lurch and halt of her h… Next my breast, where my own heart… And I laughed to feel it plunge a… And strange in my blood-swept ears… Of the words I kept repeating,
The little river twittering in the… The wan, wandering look of the pal… This is almost bliss. And everything shut up and gone to… All the troubles and anxieties and…
The little pansies by the road hav… Away their purple faces and their… And evening has taken all the bees… And all the scent is shed away by… Against the hard and pale blue eve…
Yours is the sullen sorrow, The disgrace is also mine; Your love was intense and thorough… Mine was the love of a growing flo… For the sunshine.
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…
My world is a painted fresco, wher… Of old, ineffectual lives linger b… An endless tapestry the past has w… The halls of my life, compelling m… The surface of dreams is broken,
Hollow rang the house when I knoc… And I lingered on the threshold w… Upraised to knock and knock once m… Listening for the sound of her fee… Hollow re—echoed my heart.
You, if you were sensible, When I tell you the stars flash s… You would not turn and answer me “The night is wonderful.” Even you, if you knew
It is stormy, and raindrops cling… The thin sycamores in the playgrou… The heads of the boys move dimly t… The class; over them all the dark… It is no good, dear, gentleness an…
All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the du… Wake in the morning to find that i… But the dreamers of the day are da… For they dream their dreams with o…