#EnglishWriters
And the traveller hopes: “Let me… Physician”; and the ports have nam… The citiless, the corroding, the s… And North means to all: “Reject”. And the great plains are for ever…
He looked in all His wisdom from… Down on that humble boy who kept t… And sent a dove; the dove returned… Youth liked the music, but soon fe… But He had planned such future fo…
I sit in one of the dives On Fifty-second Street Uncertain and afraid As the clever hopes expire Of a low dishonest decade:
Driver drive faster and make a goo… Down the Springfield Line under t… Fly like an aeroplane, don’t pull… Till you brake for Grand Central… For there in the middle of the wai…
Sharp and silent in the Clear October lighting Of a Sunday morning The great city lies; And I at a window
Lady, weeping at the crossroads, Would you meet your love In the twilight with his greyhound… And the hawk on his glove? Bribe the birds then on the branch…
First Things First Woken, I lay in the arms of my ow… To a storm enjoying its storminess… Till my ear, as it can when half-a… Set to work to unscramble that int…
The underground roads Are, as the dead prefer them, Always tortuous. . . . When he looked the cave in the eye…
Some thirty inches from my nose The frontier of my Person goes, And all the untilled air between Is private pagus or demesne. Stranger, unless with bedroom eyes
Law, say the gardeners, is the sun… Law is the one All gardeners obey To-morrow, yesterday, to-day. Law is the wisdom of the old,
He was found by the Bureau of Sta… One against whom there was no offi… And all the reports on his conduct… That, in the modern sense of an ol… saint,
Being set on the idea Of getting to Atlantis, You have discovered of course Only the Ship of Fools is Making the voyage this year,
As the hawk sees it or the helmete… The clouds rift suddenly - look th… At cigarette-end smouldering on a… At the first garden party of the y… Pass on, admire the view of the ma…
For us like any other fugitive, Like the numberless flowers that c… And all the beasts that need not r… It is today in which we live. So many try to say Not Now,
This is the night mail crossing th… Bringing the cheque and the postal… Letters for the rich, letters for… The shop at the corner, the girl n… Pulling up Beattock, a steady cli…