#EnglishWriters
Ours yet not ours, being set apart As a shrine to friendship, Empty and silent most of the year, This room awaits from you What you alone, as visitor, can br…
Dear, though the night is gone, Its dream still haunts to-day, That brought us to a room Cavernous, lofty as A railway terminus,
So an age ended, and its last deli… In bed, grown idle and unhappy; th… The sudden shadow of a giant’s eno… Would fall no more at dusk across… They slept in peace: in marshes he…
Poet, oracle and wit Like unsuccessful anglers by Th ponds of apperception sit, Baiting with the wrong request The vectors of their interest;
Doom is dark and deeper than any s… Upon what man it fall In spring, day-wishing flowers app… Avalanche sliding, white snow from… That he should leave his house,
Over the heather the wet wind blow… I’ve lice in my tunic and a cold i… The rain comes pattering out of th… I’m a Wall soldier, I don’t know… The mist creeps over the hard grey…
They wondered why the fruit had be… It taught them nothing new. They… But did not listen much when they… They knew exactly what to do outsi… They left. Immediately the memory…
Unrhymed, unrhythmical, the chatte… Yet no one hears his own remarks a… Beneath each topic tunelessly disc… The ground-bass is reciprocal mist… The names in fashion shuttling to…
If all a top physicist knows About the Truth be true, Then, for all the so-and-so’s, Futility and grime, Our common world contains,
Out of it steps our future, throug… Enigmas, executioners and rules, Her Majesty in a bad temper or A red-nosed Fool who makes a fool… Great persons eye it in the twilig…
Out of a bellicose fore-time, thun… head-on collisions of cloud and ro… up-thrust, crevasse-and-avalanche,… deadly to breathers, it whelms into our picture below t…
Victor was a little baby, Into this world he came; His father took him on his knee an… 'Don’t dishonour the family name.' Victor looked up at his father
Fish in the unruffled lakes Their swarming colors wear, Swans in the winter air A white perfection have, And the great lion walks
Now through night’s caressing grip Earth and all her oceans slip, Capes of China slide away From her fingers into day And th’Americas incline
As the poets have mournfully sung, Death takes the innocent young, The rolling-in-money, The screamingly-funny, And those who are very well hung.