#EnglishWriters
Time, You Old Gypsy Man Will you not stay, Put up your caravan Just for one day? All things I’ll give you
When flighting time is on I go With clap-net and decoy, A-fowling after goldfinches And other birds of joy; I lurk among the thickets of
Eve, with her basket, was Deep in the bells and grass, Wading in bells and grass Up to her knees, Picking a dish of sweet
See an old unhappy bull, Sick in soul and body both, Slouching in the undergrowth Of the forest beautiful, Banished from the herd he led,
“How fared you when you mortal wer… What did you see on my peopled sta… “Oh well enough,” I answered her, “It went for me where mortals are! ”I saw blue flowers and the merlin…
I climbed a hill as light fell sho… And rooks came home in scramble so… And filled the trees and flapped a… And sang themselves to sleep; An owl from nowhere with no sound
Not baser than his own homekeeping… Whose journeyman he is - Blind sons and breastless daughter… Whose darkness pardons his, - About the world, while all the wor…
He came and took me by the hand Up to a red rose tree, He kept His meaning to Himself But gave a rose to me. I did not pray Him to lay bare
Babylon where I go dreaming When I weary of to-day, Weary of a world grown gray. God loves an idle rainbow, No less than laboring seas.
The leaves looked in at the window Of the house across the way, At a man that had sinned like you… And all poor human clay. He muttered: 'In a gambol
A few tossed thrushes save That carolled less than cried Against the dying rave And moan that never died, No bird sang then; no thorn,
“Come, try your skill, kind gentle… A penny for three tries!” Some threw and lost, some threw an… A ten-a-penny prize. She was a tawny gypsy girl,
The old gilt vane and spire receiv… The last beam eastward striking; The first shy bat to peep at eve Has found her to his liking. The western heaven is dull and gre…
Now one and all, you Roses, Wake up, you lie too long! This very morning closes The Nightingale his song; Each from its olive chamber