Not this week nor this month dare… In languour under lime trees or sm… Love must not kiss my face pale th… My lips, parting, shall drink spac… Strong meats be all my hunger; my…
It lieth low near merry England’s… Like a long—buried sin; and Engli… Forget that in its death their sir… And, like a sin, Time lays it bar… To tell of races wronged,
Hush, thrush! Hush, missen—thrush… I heard the flush of footsteps thr… And a low whistle by the water’s b… Still! Daffodil! Nay, hail me not… Your gay gold lily daunts me and d…
Halted against the shade of a last… They fed, and, lying easy, were at… And, finding comfortable chests an… Carelessly slept. But many there… To face the stark, blank sky beyon…
I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair. Along the wharves by the water—hou… And through the cavernous slaughte… I am the shadow that walks there. Yet I have flesh both firm and co…
My shy hand shades a hermitage apa… O large enough for thee, and thy b… Life there is sweeter held than in… Stiller than in the heavens of hol… The wine is gladder there than in…
As bronze may be much beautified By lying in the dark damp soil, So men who fade in dust of warfare… Fairer, and sorrow blooms their so… Like pearls which noble women wear
If ever I had dreamed of my dead… High in the heart of London, unsu… By Time for ever, and the Fugitiv… There seeking a long sanctuary at… Or if I onetime hoped to hide its…
His fingers wake, and flutter up t… His eyes come open with a pull of… Helped by the yellow may—flowers b… A blind—cord drawls across the win… How smooth the floor of the ward i…
Has your soul sipped Of the sweetness of all sweets? Has it well supped But yet hungers and sweats? I have been witness
This book is not about heroes. En… of them. Nor is it about deeds or… dominion or power, except War. Above all, this book is not concer…
Be slowly lifted up, thou long bla… Great Gun towering towards Heaven… Sway steep against them, and for y… Huge imprecations like a blasting… Reach at that Arrogance which nee…
Suddenly night crushed out the day… Her remnants over cloud—peaks, thu… Then fell a stillness such as hark… When far—gone dead return upon the… There watched I for the Dead; but…
Though unseen Poets, many and man… Have answered me as if they knew m… And it might seem have fashioned s… To be my own soul’s cry; easing th… Of my dumb tears with language swe…
Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by th… Kindness of wooed and wooer Seems shame to their love pure. O Love, your eyes lose lure