#English
Women he liked, did shovel-bearded… Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath,… Loved horses. He himself was like… And leather-coloured. Also he lov… For the life in them he loved most…
I never saw that land before, And now can never see it again; Yet, as if by acquaintance hoar Endeared, by gladness and by pain, Great was the affection that I bo…
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…
IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour
The green roads that end in the fo… Are strewn with white goose feathe… Life marks left behind by someone… To show his track. But he has nev… Down each green road a cottage loo…
The last light has gone out of the… This moonlight lying on the grass… Beyond the brink of the tall elm’s… It is as if everything else had sl… Many an age, unforgotten and lost…
There are so many things I have f… That once were much to me, or that… All lost, as is a childless woman’… And its child’s children, in the u… Abyss of what can never be again.
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…
The glory of the beauty of the mor… The cuckoo crying over the untouch… The blackbird that has found it, a… That tempts me on to something swe… White clouds ranged even and fair…
That’s the cuckoo, you say. I can… When last I heard it I cannot rec… Too well the year when first I fa… It was drowned by my man groaning… Ten times with an angry voice he s…
The dim sea glints chill. The whi… And the skeleton weeds and the nev… Rough, long grasses keep white wit… At the hill-top by the finger-post… The smoke of the traveller’s-joy i…
Not the end: but there’s nothing m… Sweet Summer and Winter rude I have loved, and friendship and l… The crowd and solitude: But I know them: I weary not;
Some day, I think, there will be… In Froxfield to pick all the blac… Out of the hedges of Green Lane,… Broad lane where now September hi… In bracken and blackberry, harebel…
Under the after-sunset sky Two pewits sport and cry, More white than is the moon on hig… Riding the dark surge silently; More black than earth. Their cry
OUT of the wood of thoughts that… To be cut down by the sharp ax of… Out of the night, two cocks togeth… Cleaving the darkness with a silve… And brought before my eyes twin tr…