#English #XXCentury
On her shut lids the lightning fli… Thunder explodes above her bed, An inch from her lax arm the rain… Discrete she lies, Not dead but entranced, dreamlessl…
Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine. No need for bowl or silver spoon,
Where is the landlord of old Hawk… And what of Master Straddler this… He’s along in the tap—room with br… And ten bold companions all drinki… Where is the daughter of old Hawk…
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?…
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
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
“Is that the Three—and—Twentieth,… Marching below, and we still gulpi… From the sad magic of his fragrant… The red—faced old centurion starte… Cursed, battered on the table. “N…
Take now a country mood, Resolve, distil it: — Nine Acre swaying alive, June flowers that fill it, Spicy sweet—briar bush,
Owls —they whinny down the night; Bats go zigzag by. Ambushed in shadow beyond sight The outlaws lie. Old gods, tamed to silence, there
Here down this very way, Here only yesterday King Faun went leaping. He sang, with careless shout Hurling his name about;
He fell in victory’s fierce pursui… Holed through and through with sho… A sabre sweep had hacked him deep Twixt neck and shoulderknot.... The potman cannot well recall,
A purple whale Proudly sweeps his tail Towards Nineveh; Glassy green Surges between
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…
There is one story and one story o… That will prove worth your telling… Whether are learned bard or gifted… To it all lines or lesser gauds be… That startle with their shining
Bears gash the forest trees To mark the bounds Of their own hunting grounds; They follow the wild bees Point by point home