#EnglishWriters
Still bathed in its moonlight slum… Stands silent against the red dawn… And nothing I know of who sleeps… Behind the blue curtains undrawn: But I dream as we march down the…
Neck-deep in mud, He mowed and raved— He who had braved The field of bl… And as a lad Just out of school
Near the great pyramid, unshadowed… With apex piercing the white noon-… Swathed in white robes beneath the… Lie sleeping Bedouins drenched in… About them, searing to the tinglin…
She must go back, she said, Because she’d not had time to make… We’d hurried her away So roughly . . . and for all that… She broke from us, and passed
When the plane dived and the machi… The deck, in his numb clutch the t… Bucked madly as he strove to keep… Zig-zagging, that was all that mat… To keep the ship zig-zagging endle…
I SIT beside the brazier’s glow, And, drowsing in the heat, A dream of daffodils that blow And lambs that frisk and bleat— Black lambs that frolic in the sno…
Out of the sparkling sea I drew my tingling body clear, and… On a low ledge the livelong summer… Basking, and watching lazily White sails in Falmouth Bay.
“Two rows of cabbages, Two curly-greens, Two rows of early peas, Two of kidney-beans.” That’s what he is muttering,
They gave him a shilling, They gave him a gun; And so he’s gone killing The Germans, my son. I dream of that shilling—
They found her cold upon the bed. The cause of death, the doctor sai… Was nothing save the lack of bread… Her clothes were but a sorry rag That barely hid the nakedness
Into the twilight of Trafalgar Sq… They pour from every quarter, bang… And tootling penny trumpets: to a… Of tin mouth-organs, while a sailo… A solitary banjo, lads and girls,
In dream, again within the clean,… Of glazed and aching silence he wa… And, closing in, the blank walls o… Crushed stifling on him . . . when… Caught in his clutching fingers; a…
We who are left, how shall we look… Happily on the sun or feel the rai… Without remembering how they who w… Ungrudgingly and spent Their lives for us loved, too, the…
Dark waters into crystalline brill… About the keel, as through the moo… The dark ship moves in its own mov… Of phosphorescent cold moon-colour… And to the clear horizon, all arou…
Two rows of cabbages, Two of curly-greens Two rows of early peas, Two of kidney beans. That’s what he keeps muttering,