#EnglishWriters
Search for nothing any more, nothi… except truth. Be very still, and try and get at… And the first question to ask your… How great a liar am I?
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…
The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, ma… Everything, tear-trembling stars o… And the snore of the night in my e… For suddenly, flush-fallen,
If I could have put you in my hea… If but I could have wrapped you i… How glad I should have been! And now the chart Of memory unrolls again to me
I thought he was dumb, I said he was dumb, Yet I’ve heard him cry. First faint scream, Out of life’s unfathomable dawn,
Not I, not I, but the wind that b… A fine wind is blowing the new dir… If only I let it bear me, carry m… If only I am sensitive, subtle, o… If only, most lovely of all, I yi…
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting… I despise that self—important game… Thought is the welling up of unkno… Thought is the testing of statemen…
Oh the green glimmer of apples in… Lamps in a wash of rain! Oh the wet walk of my brown hen th… Oh tears on the window pane! Nothing now will ripen the bright…
I will give you all my keys, You shall be my châtelaine, You shall enter as you please, As you please shall go again. When I hear you jingling through
Making his advances He does not look at her, nor sniff… No, not even sniff at her, his nos… Only he senses the vulnerable fold… That work beneath her while she sp…
All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the du… Wake in the morning to find that i… But the dreamers of the day are da… For they dream their dreams with o…
The quick sparks on the gorse bush… Little jets of sunlight—texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They are lords of the desolate was… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
The moon is broken in twain, and h… Before me lies on the still, pale… The other half of the broken coin… Is buried away in the dark, where… They buried her half in the grave…
There are four men mowing down by… I can hear the swish of the scythe… Sharp breaths taken: yea, and I Am sorry for what’s in store. The first man out of the four that…
THE clouds are pushing in grey re… While north of them all, at the fa… With fire as it guards the wild no… The rocks where ravens flying to w… You should be out by the orchard,…