These fought in any case, and some believing pro domo, in any case ..... Died some, pro patria, walked eye—deep in hell

The Past was goodly once, and yet… The best of it we know is that it’… Dwindled and faded quite, perished… Nothing is left at last of what on… Coming back like a ghost, staring…

O generation of the thoroughly smu… and the thoroughly uncomfortable, I have seen fishermen picknicking… I have seen them with untidy famil… I have seen their smiles full of t…

Mr. Styrax 1 Mr. Hecatomb Styrax, the owner of… A 'blue’ and a climber of mountain… He being at that age a virgin, The term Virgo’ being made male i…

My City, my beloved, my white! Ah… Listen! Listen to me, and I will… Delicately upon the reed, attend m… Now do I know that I am mad, For here are a million people surl…

Red knights, brown bishops, bright… Striking the board, falling in str… colour. Reaching and striking in angles, holding lines in one colour.

Agathas Four and forty lovers had Agathas… All of whom she refused; And now she turns to me seeking lo… And her hair also is turning.

This is another of our ancient lov… Pass and be silent, Rullus, for t… Hath lacked a something since this… Hath lacked a something. ’Twas bu…

Time and the Earth - The old Father and Mother - Their teeming accomplished, Their purpose fulfilled, Close with a smile

Vex not thou the banker’s mind (His what?) with a show of sense, Vex it not, Willie, his mind, Or pierce its pretence On the supposition that it ever

I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,

And before hell mouth; dry plain and two mountains; On the one mountain, a running for… and another In the turn of the hill; in hard s…

Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,

The black panther treads at my sid… And above my fingers There float the petal-like flames. The milk-white girls Unbend from the holly-trees,

Her grave, sweet haughtiness Pleaseth me, and in like wise Her quiet ironies. Others are beautiful, none more, s… I suppose, when poetry comes down…