#English #XXCentury
I am a young executive. No cuffs… I have a Slimline brief-case and… In every roadside hostelry from he… The maîtres d’hôtel all know me we… You ask me what it is I do. Well,…
How did the Devil come? When firs… These Norfolk lanes recall lost i… The years fall off and find me wal… Dragging a stick along the wooden… Down this same path, where, forty…
Up the ash tree climbs the ivy, Up the ivy climbs the sun, With a twenty-thousand pattering, Has a valley breeze begun, Feathery ash, neglected elder,
High dormers are rising So sharp and surprising, And ponticum edges The driveways of gravel; Stone houses from ledges
The last year’s leaves are on the… The twigs are black; the cold is d… To deeps beyond the deepest reach The Easter bells enlarge the sky. O ordered metal clatter-clang!
The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the nigh… Has caught the streaks of winter r… In many a stained-glass window she…
Come, friendly bombs, and fall on… It isn’t fit for humans now, There isn’t grass to graze a cow Swarm over, Death! Come, bombs, and blow to smitheree…
The heavy mahogany door with its w… Shuts. And the sound is rich, sym… The sun still shines on this eight… With Edwardian faience adornment—… No hope. And the X-ray photograph…
I remember the dread with which I… Let go with a bang behind me our h… And, clutching a present for my de… Sailed out for the children’s part… Or rather the gathering night. Fo…
In the licorice fields at Pontefr… My love and I did meet And many a burdened licorice bush Was blooming round our feet; Red hair she had and golden skin,
Here among long-discarded cassocks… Damp stools, and half-split open h… Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books… Lean and alone I spend my days
Isn’t she lovely, “the Mistress”? With her wide-apart grey-green eye… The droop of her lips and, when sh… Her glance of amused surprise? How nonchalantly she wears her clo…
Walking from school is a consummat… Which route to follow to avoid the… Which paths to find that lead, cir… To leafy squirrel haunts and plopp… For dreams of Archibald and Tiger…
The sort of girl I like to see Smiles down from her great height… She stands in strong, athletic pos… And wrinkles her retroussé nose. Is it distaste that makes her frow…
Across the wet November night The church is bright with candleli… And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strok… Pleads louder than the stirring oa…
