#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…
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead… without ever having felt sorry for…
I have opened the window to warm m… Where the sunlight soaks in the st… Is full of dreams, my love, the bo… In a wistful dream of Lorna Doone… The clink of the shunting engines…
What large, dark hands are those a… Grasping in the golden light Which weaves its way through the e… At my heart’s delight? Ah, only the leaves! But in the w…
People were bathing and posturing… and all was dreary, great robot li… robot voices, robot even the gay u… But a woman, shy and alone, was wa… lilies, and like water—lilies.
Love has crept out of her sealéd h… As a field-bee, black and amber, Breaks from the winter-cell, to cl… Up the warm grass where the sunbea… Mischief has come in her dawning e…
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…
Ah in the thunder air how still the trees are! And the lime—tree, lovely and tall… hardly looses even a last breath o… And the ghostly, creamy coloured l…
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…
The earth again like a ship steams… The edge of the blue, and the sun… Slowly into another day; slowly th… Vessel of darkness takes the risin… I, on the deck, am startled by thi…
When she rises in the morning I linger to watch her; She spreads the bath—cloth underne… And the sunbeams catch her Glistening white on the shoulders,
As we live, we are transmitters of… And when we fail to transmit life,… That is part of the mystery of sex… Sexless people transmit nothing. And if, as we work, we can transmi…
Look at them standing there in aut… The pale—faces, As if it could have any effect any… Pale—face authority, Caryatids,
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;
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…
