#EnglishWriters
When you went, how was it you carr… My missal book of fine, flamboyant… My book of turrets and of red-thor… And skies of gold, and ladies in b… Now underneath a blue-grey twiligh…
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…
I thought he was dumb, I said he was dumb, Yet I’ve heard him cry. First faint scream, Out of life’s unfathomable dawn,
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
The feelings I don’t have I don’t… The feeling I don’t have, I won’t… The feelings you say you have, you… The feelings you would like us bot… The feelings people ought to have,…
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…
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…
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…
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…
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting… I despise that self—important game… Thought is the welling up of unkno… Thought is the testing of statemen…
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.
DARKNESS comes out of the eart… And swallows dip into the pallor o… From the hay comes the clamour of… Wanes the old palimpsest. The night-stock oozes scent,
I wonder, can the night go by; Can this shot arrow of travel fly Shaft—golden with light, sheer int… Of a dawned to—morrow, Without ever sleep delivering us
Not every man has gentians in his… in Soft September, at slow, Sad… Bavarian gentians, big and dark, o… darkening the daytime torchlike wi… gloom,
I wonder if with you, as it is wit… If under your slipping words, that… About you as a garment, easily, Your violent heart beats to and fr… Long have I waited, never once co…