#EnglishWriters
The pine-trees bend to listen to t… Something which sets the black pop… While slowly the house of day is c… Further down the valley the cluste… Winding about their dimness the mi…
I can’t stand Willy Wet—Leg, Can’t stand him at any price. He’s resigned, and when you hit hi… he lets you hit him twice.
Out of the darkness, fretted somet… Jets of sparks in fountains of blu… To sight, revealing a secret, numb… Sometimes the darkness trapped wit… Runs into speed like a dream, the…
My love looks like a girl to—night… But she is old. The plaits that lie along her pill… Are not gold, But threaded with filigree silver,
Outside the house an ash—tree hung… And at night when the wind arose,… Shrieked and slashed the wind, as… Weird rigging in a storm shrieks h… Within the house two voices arose…
Tell me a word that you’ve often heard, yet it makes you squint when you see it in print! Tell me a thing
YOU promised to send me some viol… White ones and blue ones from unde… Sweet dark purple, and white ones… Of our early love that hardly has… Here there’s an almond tree—you ha…
RIGID sleeps the house in darkne… Like a thing unwarrantable cross t… And climb the stairs to find the g… Standing angel-stern and tall. I want my own room’s shelter. But…
There are only two things now, The great black night scooped out And this fireglow. This fireglow, the core, And we the two ripe pips
People were bathing and posturing… and all was dreary, great robot li… robot voices, robot even the gay u… But a woman, shy and alone, was wa… lilies, and like water—lilies.
What large, dark hands are those a… Lifted, grasping in the yellow lig… Which makes its way through the cu… At my heart to—night? Ah, only the leaves! So leave me…
Too far away, oh love, I know, To save me from this haunted road, Whose lofty roses break and blow On a night—sky bent with a load Of lights: each solitary rose,
You know what it is to be born alo… Baby tortoise! The first day to heave your feet l… Not yet awake, And remain lapsed on earth,
Mournfully to and fro, to and fro… What did you say, my dear? The rain-bruised leaves are sudden… Asleep still shakes in the clutch… Yes, my love, I hear.
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…
