#English
Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie in stone… Their proper habits vaguely shown As jointed armour, stiffened pleat… And that faint hint of the absurd—
The widest prairies have electric… For though old cattle know they mu… Young steers are always scenting p… Not here but anywhere. Beyond the… Leads them to blunder up against t…
That note you hold, narrowing and… Like New Orleans reflected on the… And in all ears appropriate falseh… Building for some a legendary Qua… Of balconies, flower—baskets and q…
Strange to know nothing, never to… Of what is true or right or real, But forced to qualify or so I fee… Or Well, it does seem so: Someone must know.
The cloakroom pegs are empty now, And locked the classroom door, The hollow desks are lined with du… And slow across the floor A sunbeam creeps between the chair…
This empty street, this sky to bla… This air, a little indistinct with… Like a reflection, constitute the… A time traditionally soured, A time unrecommended by event.
A stationary sense... as, I suppo… I shall have, till my single body… Inaccurate, tired; Then I shall start to feel the ba… Take over, sickening and masterful…
Green-shadowed people sit, or walk… Their children finger the awakened… Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bi… And, flashing like a dangled-looki… Sun lights the balls that bounce,…
Tightly-folded bud, I have wished you something None of the others would: Not the usual stuff About being beautiful,
The trumpet’s voice, loud and auth… Draws me a moment to the lighted g… To watch the dancers —all under tw… Solemnly on the beat of happiness. –Or so I fancy, sensing the smoke…
My age fallen away like white swad… Floats in the middle distance, bec… An inhabited cloud. I bend closer… A lighted tenement scuttling with… O you tall game I tired myself wi…
What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in:
Coming up England by a different… For once, early in the cold new ye… We stopped, and, watching men with… Sprint down the platform to famili… ‘Why, Coventry!’ I exclaimed. ‘I…
I feared these present years, The middle twenties, When deftness disappears, And each event is Freighted with a source—encrusting…
Is it for now or for always, The world hangs on a stalk? Is it a trick or a trysting—place, The woods we have found to walk? Is it a mirage or miracle,