#English #XXCentury
Not to sleep all the night long, f… Counting no sheep and careless of… Welcoming the dawn confabulation Of birch, her children, who discus… Fanciful details of the promised c…
Why have such scores of lovely, gi… Married impossible men? Simple self—sacrifice may be ruled… And missionary endeavour, nine tim… Repeat “impossible men”: not merel…
We found the little captain at the… His men lay well-aligned. We touched his hand—stone cold—and… And they, all dead behind, Had never reached their goal, but…
The difference between you and her (whom I to you did once prefer) Is clear enough to settle: She like a diamond shone, but you Shine like an early drop of dew
Come close to me, dear Annie, whi… A tale of burning love between a k… The pot was stalwart iron and the… And though their sides were black… Forget that kettle, Jamie, and th…
(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
Listen now this time Shortly to my rhyme That herewith starts About certain kind hearts In those stricken parts
Through long nursery nights he sto… By my bed unwearying, Loomed gigantic, formless, queer, Purring in my haunted ear That same hideous nightmare thing,
Yet once an earlier David took Smooth pebbles from the brook: Out between the lines he went To that one—sided tournament, A shepherd boy who stood out fine
In my body lives a flame, Flame that burns me all the day; When a fierce sun does the same, I am charred away. Who could keep a smiling wit,
Dust in a cloud, blinding weather, Drums that rattle and roar! A mother and daughter stood togeth… Beside their cottage door. ‘Mother, the heavens are bright li…
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
Four collier lads from Ebbw Vale Took shelter from a shower of hail… And there beneath a spreading tree Attuned their mouths to harmony. With smiling joy on every face
Beauty in trouble flees to the goo… On whom she can rely To pay her cab—fare, run a steamin… Poultice her bruised eye; Will not at first, whether for sha…
Are you shaken, are you stirred By a whisper of love, Spellbound to a word Does Time cease to move, Till her calm grey eye
