#English #XXCentury
I’ve whined of coming death, but n… It’s weak and most ungracious. Fo… Though still a boy if years are co… I’ve lived those years from roof t… And feel, like grey—beards touchin…
Love is universal migraine, A bright stain on the vision Blotting out reason. Symptoms of true love Are leanness, jealousy,
(The first corpse I saw was on th… German wires, and couldn’t be buri… The whole field was so smelly; We smelt the poor dog first: His horrid swollen belly
On the eighth day God died; his b… That had been shut so long flew op… So Adam’s too in a dismay like de… But the world still rolled on arou… Instinct with all those lesser pow…
It is a poet’s privilege and fate To fall enamoured of the one Muse Who variously haunts this island e… She was your mother, Darien, And presaged by the darting halcyo…
Under this loop of honeysuckle, A creeping, coloured caterpillar, I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn sp… I nibble it leaf by leaf away. Down beneath grow dandelions,
Lady, lovely lady, Careless and gay! Once when a beggar called She gave her child away. The beggar took the baby,
He, of his gentleness, Thirsting and hungering Walked in the Wilderness; Soft words of grace he spoke Unto lost desert—folk
…but I was dead, an hour or more. I woke when I’d already passed th… That Cerberus guards, and half—wa… To Lethe, as an old Greek signpos… Above me, on my stretcher swinging…
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
‘Gabble—gabble . . . brethren . .… My window glimpses larch and heath… I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whethe… The text is praise or exhortation,
She tells her love while half asle… In the dark hours, With half—words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter slee… And put out grass and flowers
Frowning over the riddle that Dan… Down through the mist hung garden,… The King of Persia walked: oh, th… His mind was webbed with a grey sh… Here for the pride of his soaring…
The cruel Moon hangs out of reach Up above the shadowy beech. Her face is stupid, but her eye Is small and sharp and very sly. Nurse says the Moon can drive you…
You, love, and I, (He whispers) you and I, And if no more than only you and… What care you or I? Counting the beats,