#English #XXCentury
Down, wanton, down! Have you no s… That at the whisper of Love’s nam… Or Beauty’s, presto! up you raise Your angry head and stand at gaze? Poor Bombard—captain, sworn to re…
Cherries of the night are riper Than the cherries pluckt at noon Gather to your fairy piper When he pipes his magic tune: Merry, merry,
Near Martinpuich that night of he… Two men were struck by the same sh… Together tumbling in one heap Senseless and limp like slaughtere… One was a pale eighteen—year—old,
Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to r… The form and measure of that vast God we call Poetry, he who stoops And leaps me through his paper hoo…
Feet and faces tingle In that frore land: Legs wobble and go wingle, You scarce can stand. The skies are jewelled all around,
As I walked out one harvest night About the stroke of One, The Moon attained to her full hei… Stood beaming like the Sun. She exorcised the ghostly wheat
O the clear moment, when from the… A word flies, current immediately Among friends; or when a loving gi… As the identical wish nearest the… Or when a stone, volleyed in sudde…
When outside the icy rain Comes leaping helter—skelter, Shall I tie my restive brain Snugly under shelter? Shall I make a gentle song
May they stumble, stage by stage On an endless Pilgrimage Dawn and dusk, mile after mile At each and every step a stile At each and every step withal
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…
Here in turn succeed and rule Carter, smith, and village fool, Then again the place is known As tavern, shop, and Sunday—schoo… Now somehow it’s come to me
I never dreamed we’d meet that day In our old haunts down Fricourt w… Plotting such marvellous journeys… For jolly old “Après—la—guerre.” Well, when it’s over, first we’ll…
Through long nursery nights he sto… By my bed unwearying, Loomed gigantic, formless, queer, Purring in my haunted ear That same hideous nightmare thing,
‘Make a song, father, a new little… All for Jenny and Nancy.’ Balow lalow or Hey derry down, Or else what might you fancy? Is there any song sweet enough
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