The sun rises in south east corner… To look on the tall house of the… For they have a daughter named Ra… (pretty girl) She made the name for herself: ‘G…

There is no land like England Where banks rise day by day, There are no banks like English b… To make the people pay. There is no such land of castles

The shadow of Dawn; Stillness and stars and over-maste… Of Life and Death and Sleep; Heard over gleaming flats, the old… Of the old, unchanging Sea.

The pomps of butchery, financial p… Told 'em to die in war, and then t… Then cut their saving to the half… When will this system lie down in… The pomps of Fleet St., festering…

It is, and is not, I am sane enou… Since you have come this place has… This fabrication built of autumn r… Then there’s a goldish colour, dif… And one gropes in these things as…

For God, our God is a gallant foe That playeth behind the veil. I have loved my God as a child at… That seeketh deep bosoms for rest, I have loved my God as a maid to…

Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth… I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours

The very small children in patched… Being smitten with an unusual wisd… Stopped in their play as she passe… And cried up from their cobbles: Guarda! Ahi, guarda! Ch’ è be’ a!

The scientists are in terror and the European mind stops Wynham Lewis chose blindness rather than have his mind stop. Night under wind mid garofani,

ROSE WHITE, YELLOW, SILV… The swirl of light follows me thro… The smoke of incense Mounts from the four horns of my b… The water-jet of gold light bears…

’Tis not a game that plays at mate… Provençe knew; ’Tis not a game of barter, lands a… Provençe knew. We who are wise beyond your dream…

Three spirits came to me And drew me apart To where the olive boughs Lay stripped upon the ground: Pale carnage beneath bright mist.

Like a skein of loose silk blown a… She walks by the railing of a path… And she is dying piece—meal of a sort of emotional anæmia. And round about there is a rabble

An image of Lethe, and the fields Full of faint light but golden, Gray cliffs,

What is to come we know not. But… That what has been was good—was go… Better to hide, and best of all to… We are the masters of the days tha… We have lived, we have loved, we h…