#EnglishWriters
In a Wood Pale beech and pine-tree blue, Set in one clay, Bough to bough cannot you Bide out your day?
Why did you give no hint that nigh… That quickly after the morrow’s da… And calmly, as if indifferent quit… You would close your term here, up… Where I could not follow
CHANGE and chancefulness in my… Set me sun by sun near to one unch… Wrought us fellowly, and despite d… Friends interblent us. “Cherish him can I while the true…
O poet, come you haunting here Where streets have stolen up all a… And never a nightingale pours one Full-throated sound? Drawn from your drowse by the Sev…
O the opal and the sapphire of tha… And the woman riding high above wi… The woman whom I loved so, and wh… I I The pale mews plained below us, an…
Here goes a man of seventy-four, Who sees not what life means for h… And here another in years a score Who reads its very figure and trim… The one who shall walk to-day with…
Here we broached the Christmas ba… Pushed up the charred log-ends; Here we sang the Christmas carol, And called in friends. Time has tired me since we met her…
As newer comers crowd the fore, We drop behind. —We who have laboured long and sor… Times out of mind, And keen are yet, must not regret
Come again to the place Where your presence was as a leaf… Down a drouthy way whose ascent be… The bloom on the farer’s face. Come again, with the feet
‘Whenever I plunge my arm, like t… In a basin of water, I never miss The sweet sharp sense of a fugitiv… Fetched back from its thickening s… Hence the only prime
A plain tilt-bonnet on her head She took the path across the leaze… —Her spouse the vicar, gardening,… ‘Too dowdy that, for coquetries, So I can hoe at ease.’
To my native place Bent upon returning, Bosom all day burning To be where my race Well were known, ‘twas much with m…
Just at the corner of the wall We met– yes, he and I – Who had not faced in camp or hall Since we bade home good-bye, And what once happened came back–…
I wandered to a crude coast Like a ghost; Upon the hills I saw fires - Funeral pyres Seemingly - and heard breaking
Queer are the ways of a man I kno… He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And in the seaward haze