#EnglishWriters
(After a glimpse of a certain monu… Victory Celebration) The thousand-windowed towers were… Throngs of all nations filled that… And, rich with dreams of the appro…
O Hesper-Phosphor, far away Shining, the first, the last white… Hear’st thou the strange, the ghos… That moan of an ancient agony From purple forest to golden sky
Hushed are the whimpering winds on… Dumb is the shrinking plain, And the songs that enchanted the w… As I shoot to the skies again! Does the blood grow black on my fi…
Fashion on fashion on fashion, (With only the truth growing old!) And here’s the new purple of passi… (And love waiting out in the cold) Who’ll buy?
In the light of the silent stars t… In the weary cry of the wind and t… Under the breath of laughter, deep… I hear the Loom of the Weaver tha… The leaves of the winter wither an…
There came a crowder to the Merma… One dark May night, Fiddling a tune that quelled our m… With quaint delight, It haunts me yet, as old lost airs…
O Mystery of life, That, after all our strife, Defeats, mistakes, Just as, at last, we see The road to victory,
Old Grey Squirrel might have been Almost anything - Might have been a soldier, sailor, Tinker, tailor (Never a beggar-man, though, nor t…
There is one road, one only, to th… A narrow way, but Freedom walks t… A straight, firm road through Cha… And all these wandering Jack-o-Le… It is the road of Law, where Pila…
Yes! Beauty still rebels! Our dreams like clouds disperse: She dwells In agate, marble, verse. No false constraint be thine!
(WHAT THE GHOSTS SAID.) And after all the labour and the p… After the heaping up of gold on go… After success that locked your fee… And left you with a heart so tired…
I tell you a tale to-night Which a seaman told to me, With eyes that gleamed in the lant… And a voice as low as the sea. You could almost hear the stars
I found a dreadful acre of the dea… Marked with the only sign on earth… The wings of death were hurrying o… The loose earth shook on those unq… For the deep gun-pits, with quick…
(new jersey, 1918) Its quiet graves were made for pea… Those wise old elms could hear no… Of all that distant agony— Only the red-winged blackbird, and…
How should we praise those lads of… Vindictive Who looked Death straight in the… Till his gaze fell, In those red gates of hell?