#EnglishWriters
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.
A faint, sickening scent of irises Persists all morning. Here in a j… A fine proud spike of purple irise… Rising above the class—room litter… To see the class’s lifted and bend…
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
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…
She bade me follow to her garden w… The mellow sunlight stood as in a… Between the old grey walls; I did… To raise my face, I did not dare… Lest her bright eyes like sparrows…
Not I, not I, but the wind that b… A fine wind is blowing the new dir… If only I let it bear me, carry m… If only I am sensitive, subtle, o… If only, most lovely of all, I yi…
And all hours long, the town Roars like a beast in a cave That is wounded there And like to drown; While days rush, wave after wave
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…
As we live, we are transmitters of… And when we fail to transmit life,… That is part of the mystery of sex… Sexless people transmit nothing. And if, as we work, we can transmi…
I have fetched the tears up out of… Scooped them up with small, iron w… Dripping over the runnels. The harsh, cold wind of my words d… I watched the tears on the guilty…
The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun… The crisping steam of a train Melts in the air, while two black… Sweep past the window again. Along the vacant road, a red
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…
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,
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.
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;