#EnglishWriters
Far out of bounds he’d figured-in… Of West-End traffic pitching to h… But if you’d see him in his proper… Making the browns for bub and grub… Go East among the merchants and t…
In the placid summer midnight, Under the drowsy sky, I seem to hear in the stillness The moths go glimmering by. One by one from the windows
O, have you blessed, behind the st… The blue sheen of the skies, When June the roses round her cal… Then do you know the light that fa… From her beloved eyes.
I watched you saunter down the san… Serene and large, the golden weath… Flowed radiant round your peacock… And glistered from your jewelled h… Your tawny hair, turned strand on…
Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence relea… From the most squalid cellerage of… The Wind—Fiend, the abominable—
Blue-eyed and bright of face but w… Into the sere of virginal decay, I view her as she enters, day by d… As a sweet sunset almost overpast. Kindly and calm, patrician to the…
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,
O, the fun, the fun and frolic That The Wind that Shakes the Ba… Scatters through a penny-whistle Tickled with artistic fingers! Kate the scrubber (forty summers,
Exceeding tall, but built so well… Half-disappears in flow of chest a… Moustache and whisker trooper-like… Frank-faced, frank-eyed, frank-hea… And always punctual-morning, noon,…
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…
Friends... old friends... One sees how it ends. A woman looks Or a man lies, And the pleasant brooks
O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes… And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foreg…
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance
Bring her again, O western wind, Over the western sea! Gentle and good and fair and kind, Bring her again to me! Not that her fancy holds me dear,
His beat lies knee—high through a… A dust of terror and torture, grie… Ghosts that are England’s wonder,… Throng where he walks, an antic of… A sense of long immedicable tears