#EnglishWriters
I felt the lurch and halt of her h… Next my breast, where my own heart… And I laughed to feel it plunge a… And strange in my blood-swept ears… Of the words I kept repeating,
Not I, not I, but the wind that b… A fine wind is blowing the new dir… If only I let it bear me, carry m… If only I am sensitive, subtle, o… If only, most lovely of all, I yi…
They say the sea is cold, but the… the hottest blood of all, and the… All the whales in the wider deeps,… on and on, and dive beneath the ic… The right whales, the sperm—whales…
Reject me not if I should say to… I do forget the sounding of your v… I do forget your eyes that searchi… The mists perceive our marriage, a… Yet, when the apple—blossom opens…
THE houses fade in a melt of mist Blotching the thick, soiled air With reddish places that still res… The Night’s slow care. The hopeless, wintry twilight fade…
Search for nothing any more, nothi… except truth. Be very still, and try and get at… And the first question to ask your… How great a liar am I?
Slowly the moon is rising out of t… Divesting herself of her golden sh… Emerging white and exquisite; and… See in the sky before me, a woman… I loved, but there she goes and he…
Not every man has gentians in his… in Soft September, at slow, Sad… Bavarian gentians, big and dark, o… darkening the daytime torchlike wi… gloom,
She is large and matronly And rather dirty, A little sardonic—looking, as if d… Though what she does, except lay f… And put up with her husband,
Tell me a word that you’ve often heard, yet it makes you squint when you see it in print! Tell me a thing
When the autumn roses Are heavy with dew, Before the mist discloses The leaf’s brown hue, You would, among the laughing hill…
Close your eyes, my love, let me m… They have taught you to see Only a mean arithmetic on the face… A cunning algebra in the faces of… And God like geometry
You, if you were sensible, When I tell you the stars flash s… You would not turn and answer me “The night is wonderful.” Even you, if you knew
MANY roses in the wind Are tapping at the window-sash. A hawk is in the sky; his wings Slowly begin to plash. The roses with the west wind rappi…
Since I lost you I am silence—hau… Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings… Whether the people in the street