#EnglishWriters
Here among long-discarded cassocks… Damp stools, and half-split open h… Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books… Lean and alone I spend my days
Encase your legs in nylons, Bestride your hills with pylons O age without a soul; Away with gentle willows And all the elmy billows
Cocooned in Time, at this inhuman… The packaged food tastes neutrally… We never seem to catch the running… But travel on in everlasting night With all the chic accoutrements of…
Gaily into Ruislip Gardens Runs the red electric train, With a thousand Ta’s and Pardon’s Daintily alights Elaine; Hurries down the concrete station
Dr Ramsden cannot read The Times… He’s dead. Let monographs on silk worms by ot… Thrown away Unread
Up the ash tree climbs the ivy, Up the ivy climbs the sun, With a twenty-thousand pattering, Has a valley breeze begun, Feathery ash, neglected elder,
I am a young executive. No cuffs… I have a Slimline brief-case and… In every roadside hostelry from he… The maîtres d’hôtel all know me we… You ask me what it is I do. Well,…
The clock is frozen in the tower, The thickening fog with sooty smel… Has blanketed the motor power Which turns the London streets to… And footsteps with their lonely so…
Golden haired and golden hearted I would ever have you be, As you were when last we parted Smiling slow and sad at me. Oh! the fighting down of passion!
The gas was on in the Institute, The flare was up in the gym, A man was running a mineral line, A lass was singing a hymn, When Captain Webb the Dawley man…
Isn’t she lovely, “the Mistress”? With her wide-apart grey-green eye… The droop of her lips and, when sh… Her glance of amused surprise? How nonchalantly she wears her clo…
From the geyser ventilators Autumn winds are blowing down On a thousand business women Having baths in Camden Town Waste pipes chuckle into runnels,
Those moments, tasted once and nev… Of long surf breaking in the mid-d… A far-off blow—hole booming like a… The seagulls plane and circle out… Below this thirsty, thrift-encrust…
The sleepy sound of a tea-time tid… Slaps at the rocks the sun has dri… Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift Round low peninsulas pink with thr… The water, enlarging shells and sa…
Across the wet November night The church is bright with candleli… And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strok… Pleads louder than the stirring oa…