#English
The downs will lose the sun, white… Lose the bees’ hum; But head and bottle tilted back in… Will never part Till I am cold as midnight and al…
After you speak And what you meant Is plain, My eyes Meet yours that mean,
Harry, you know at night The larks in Castle Alley Sing from the attic’s height As if the electric light Were the true sun above a summer v…
t stood in the sunset sky Like the straight-backed down, Many a time - the barn At the edge of town, So huge and dark that it seemed
Yes, I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up… Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared…
Mother, the root of this little ye… Among the stones has the taste of… Things are strange to-day on the c… And the grasshopper works at his s… So hard. Here’s one on my hand, m…
Often I had gone this way before But now it seemed I never could b… And never had been anywhere else; ’Twas home; one nationality We had, I and the birds that sang…
No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through
I built myself a house of glass: It took my years to make it: And I was proud. But now, alas! Would God someone would break it. But it looks too magnificent.
To-day I want the sky, The tops of the high hills, Above the last man’s house, His hedges, and his cows, Where, if I will, I look
f I were to own this countryside As far as a man in a day could rid… And the Tyes were mine for giving… Wingle Tye and Margaretting Tye, - and Skreens, Gooshays, and…
I have come to the borders of slee… The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, Or winding, soon or late;
The sweetest thing, I thought At one time, between earth and hea… Was the first smile When mist has been forgiven And the sun has stolen out,
‘He rolls in the orchard: he is st… And with earth, the solitary old w… Where is his father and where is h… Among all the brown horses? Has h… I know the swallow, the hawk, and…
The skylarks are far behind that s… I can hear no more those suburb ni… Thrushes and blackbirds sing in th… In vain: the noise of man, beast,… But the call of children in the un…