#English #XXCentury
All saints revile her, and all sob… Ruled by the God Apollo’s golden… In scorn of which we sailed to fin… In distant regions likeliest to ho… Whom we desired above all things t…
Can I find True—Love a gift In this dark hour to restore her, When body’s vessel breaks adrift, When hope and beauty fade before h… But in this plight I cannot think
As Jesus and his followers Upon a Sabbath morn Were walking by a wheat field They plucked the ears of corn. They plucked it, they rubbed it,
I’ve watched the Seasons passing… In the fields between La Bassée a… Primroses and the first warm day o… Red poppy floods of June, August, and yellowing Autumn, so
Blacksmith Green had three strong… With bread and beef did fill 'em, Now John and Ned are perished and… But plenty remains of William. John Green was a whiskey drinker,
Penthesileia, dead of profuse wond… Was despoiled of her arms by Prin… Who, for love of that fierce white… Necrophily on her committed In the public view.
We may well wonder at those bearde… Who like the scorpion and the basi… Couched in the desert sands, to un… Their scrufy flesh with tortures. They drank from pools fouled by th…
This is a wild land, country of my… With harsh craggy mountain, moor a… Seldom in these acres is heard any… But voice of cold water that runs… Through rocks and lank heather gro…
The silent shepherdess, She of my vows, Here with me exchanging love Under dim boughs. Shines on our mysteries
An ancient saga tells us how In the beginning the First Cow (For nothing living yet had birth But Elemental Cow on earth) Began to lick cold stones and mud:
The butterfly, the cabbage white, (His honest idiocy of flight) Will never now, it is too late, Master the art of flying straight, Yet has —who knows so well as I?…
Sing baloo loo for Jenny And where is she gone? Away to spy her mother’s land, Riding all alone. To the rich towns of Scotland,
I remember, Ma’am, a frosty morni… When I was five years old and bro… Marching solemnly upstairs with th… Like an angel of doom; knocked gen… “Father, the Times has a black bo…
Sleepy Betsy from her pillow Sees the post and ball Of her sister’s wooden bedstead Shadowed on the wall. Now this grave young warrior stadn…
A page, a huntsman and a priest of… Her lovers, met in jealous contrar… Equally claiming the sole parentho… Of him the perfect crown of their… Then, whom to admit, herself she c…