#EnglishWriters
Between us now and here— Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear Life’s flushest feather— Who see the scenes slide past,
Through vaults of pain, Enribbed and wrought with groins o… I passed, and garish spectres move… To dire distress. And hammerings,
Scene.—A wide stretch of fallow g… frozen to iron hardness. Three lar… and wistfully eyeing the surface.… dull grey. (Triolet)
Last year I called this world of… The darkest thinkable, and questio… If my own land could heave its pul… So charged it seemed with circumst… The tragedy of things.
(As sung by Mr. Charles Charring… O MY trade it is the rarest one, Simple shepherds all— My trade is a sight to see; For my customers I tie, and take…
We walked where Victor Jove was s… And passed to Livia’s rich red mu… Whence, thridding cave and Cripto… We gained Caligula’s dissolving p… And each ranked ruin tended to beg…
When the Present has latched its… And the May month flaps its glad… Delicate—filmed as new—spun silk,… 'He was a man who used to notice s… If it be in the dusk when, like an…
We stood by a pond that winter day… And the sun was white, as though c… And a few leaves lay on the starvi… –They had fallen from an ash, and… Your eyes on me were as eyes that…
Thirty-two years since, up against… Seven shapes, thin atomies to lowe… Labouringly leapt and gained thy g… And four lives paid for what the s… They were the first by whom the de…
Upon a poet’s page I wrote Of old two letters of her name; Part seemed she of the effulgent t… Whence that high singer’s raptur… 'When now I turn the leaf the s…
When you shall see me lined by too… My lauded beauties carried off fro… My eyes no longer stars as in thei… My name forgot of Maiden Fair and… When in your being heart concedes…
Whether to sally and see thee, gir… Or whether to stay And see thee not! How vast the di… Of Yea from Nay Just now. Yet this same sun will…
South of the Line, inland from fa… A mouldering soldier lies—your cou… Awry and doubled up are his gray b… And on the breeze his puzzled phan… Nightly to clear Canopus: “I woul…
When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wa… As one who, held in trance, has la… By vacant rote and prepossession s… The coils that thou hast wrought u… Wherein have place, unrealized by…
The Roman Road runs straight and… As the pale parting-line in hair Across the heath. And thoughtful… Contrast its days of Now and Then… And delve, and measure, and compar…