#EnglishWriters
The morning mists still haunt the… The northern summer air is shrill… And lo, the Hospital, grey, quiet… Where Life and Death like friendl… Thro’ the loud spaciousness and dr…
Where are the passions they essaye… And where the tears they made to f… Where the wild humours they portra… For laughing worlds to see and kno… Othello’s wrath and Juliet’s woe?
Beside the idle summer sea, And in the vacant summer days, Light Love came fluting down the… Where you were loitering with me. Who have not welcomed even as we,
Let us be drunk, and for a while f… Forget, and, ceasing even from reg… Live without reason and despite of… As in a dream preposterous and sub… Where place and hour and means for…
These, to you now, O, more than e… Now that the Ancient Enemy Has passed, and we, we two that ar… A piece of perfect Life Turn to so ravishing a shape of D…
On the way to Kew, By the river old and gray, Where in the Long Ago, We laughed and loitered so, I met a ghost to-day,
Fools may pine, and sots may swill… Cynics gibe, and prophets rail, Moralists may scourge and drill, Preachers prose, and fainthearts q… Let them whine, or threat, or wail…
An ill March noon; the flagstones… An all-round east wind volleying s… St. Martin’s Steps, where every v… Lingers to buffet, or sneap, the p… And in the gutter, squelching a ro…
Trees and the menace of night; Then a long, lonely, leaden mere Backed by a desolate fell, As by a spectral battlement; and t… Low-brooding, interpenetrating all…
‘Liza’s old man’s perhaps a little… ‘Liza’s old woman’s prone to booze… But ‘Liza deems herself a perfect… And proves it in her feathers and… For ’Liza has a bloke her heart t…
Here in this dim, dull, double-bed… I play the father to a brace of bo… Ailing but apt for every sort of n… Bedfast but brilliant yet with hea… Roden, the Irishman, is ‘sieven p…
Not to the staring Day, For all the importunate questionin… In his big, violent voice, Shall those mild things of bulk an… The Trees—God’s sentinels
A child, Curious and innocent, Slips from his Nurse, and rejoici… Loses himself in the Fair. Thro’ the jostle and din
Fill a glass with golden wine, And the while your lips are wet Set your perfume unto mine, And forget. Every kiss we take and give
As with varnish red and glistening Dripped his hair; his feet looked… Raised, he settled stiffly sideway… You could see his hurts were spina… He had fallen from an engine,