#EnglishWriters
A YELLOW leaf from the darkness Hops like a frog before me. Why should I start and stand stil… I was watching the woman that bore… Stretched in the brindled darkness
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…
You know what it is to be born alo… Baby tortoise! The first day to heave your feet l… Not yet awake, And remain lapsed on earth,
It is conceit that kills us and makes us cowards instead of go… Under the great Command: Know thy… we have become fatally self—consci… Now we have to admit we can’t know…
Slowly the moon is rising out of t… Divesting herself of her golden sh… Emerging white and exquisite; and… See in the sky before me, a woman… I loved, but there she goes and he…
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…
A tiny moon as white and small as… Leans all alone above my window, o… Liquid as lime-tree blossom, soft… She shines, the one white love of…
The glimmer of the limes, sun-heav… Goes trembling past me up the Col… Below, the lawn, in soft blue shad… The daisy-froth quiescent, softly… Beyond the leaves that overhang th…
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead… without ever having felt sorry for…
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…
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…
We are a liars, because the truth of yesterday becomes a l… whereas letters are fixed, and we live by the letter of truth… The love I feel for my friend, th…
Ah, you stack of white lilies, all… A am adrift as a sunbeam, and with… Or having, save I light on you to… Your pallor into radiance, flush y… White beauty into incandescence: y…
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…
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…