#EnglishWriters Modern
I look at the swaling sunset And wish I could go also Through the red doors beyond the b… I wish that I could go Through the red doors where I cou…
THE houses fade in a melt of mist Blotching the thick, soiled air With reddish places that still res… The Night’s slow care. The hopeless, wintry twilight fade…
Yours is the sullen sorrow, The disgrace is also mine; Your love was intense and thorough… Mine was the love of a growing flo… For the sunshine.
A snake came to my water—trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjam… To drink there. In the deep, strange—scented shade… I came down the steps with my pitc…
Do you remember How night after night swept level… Overhead, at home, and had not one… Nor one narrow gate for the moon t… Forth to her field of November.
This spring as it comes bursts up… Wild puffing of emerald trees, and… Thorn—blossom lifting in wreaths o… Where the wood fumes up and the wa… I am amazed at this spring, this c…
High and smaller goes the moon, sh… Wistful and candid, watching me wi… Trembling blue in her pallor a tea… A tear which I had hoped that eve…
Hollow rang the house when I knoc… And I lingered on the threshold w… Upraised to knock and knock once m… Listening for the sound of her fee… Hollow re—echoed my heart.
At evening, sitting on this terrac… When the sun from the west, beyond… Departs, and the world is taken by… When the tired flower of Florence… Brown hills surrounding...
Since I lost you I am silence—hau… Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings… Whether the people in the street
Since you did depart Out of my reach, my darling, Into the hidden, I see each shadow start With recognition, and I
Even iron can put forth, Even iron. This is the iron age, But let us take heart Seeing iron break and bud,
It is stormy, and raindrops cling… The thin sycamores in the playgrou… The heads of the boys move dimly t… The class; over them all the dark… It is no good, dear, gentleness an…
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead… without ever having felt sorry for…
As a drenched, drowned bee Hangs numb and heavy from a bendin… So clings to me My baby, her brown hair brushed wi… And laid against her cheek;