#EnglishWriters
Sir, no man’s enemy, forgiving all But will his negative inversion, b… Send to us power and light, a sove… Curing the intolerable neural itch… The exhaustion of weaning, the lia…
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…
We, too, had known golden hours When body and soul were in tune, Had danced with our true loves By the light of a full moon, And sat with the wise and good
Poet, oracle and wit Like unsuccessful anglers by Th ponds of apperception sit, Baiting with the wrong request The vectors of their interest;
Now the leaves are falling fast, Nurse’s flowers will not last; Nurses to the graves are gone, And the prams go rolling on. Whispering neighbours, left and ri…
Underneath the leaves of life, Green on the prodigious tree, In a trance of grief Stand the fallen man and wife: Far away the single stag
Look, stranger, on this island now The leaping light for your delight… Stand stable here And silent be, That through the channels of the e…
Nobody I know would like to be bu… with a silver cocktail-shaker, a transistor radio and a strangled daily help, or keep his word becau… of a great-great-grandmother who g…
Among pelagian travelers, Lost on their lewd conceited way To Massachusetts, Michigan, Miami or L.A., An airborne instrument I sit,
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
Again in conversations Speaking of fear And throwing off reserve The voice is nearer But no clearer
Deftly, admiral, cast your fly Into the slow deep hover, Till the wise old trout mistake an… Salt are the deeps that cover The glittering fleets you led,
Trying to understand the words Uttered on all sides by birds, I recognize in what I hear Noises that betoken fear. Thought some of them, I’m certain…
Some say love’s a little boy, And some say it’s a bird, Some say it makes the world go aro… Some say that’s absurd, And when I asked the man next—doo…
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…