#EnglishWriters Modern
My love looks like a girl to—night… But she is old. The plaits that lie along her pill… Are not gold, But threaded with filigree silver,
DARKNESS comes out of the eart… And swallows dip into the pallor o… From the hay comes the clamour of… Wanes the old palimpsest. The night-stock oozes scent,
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 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,…
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…
WHEN into the night the yellow l… Or like a mist the moon has kissed… Our faces flower for a little hour… Daisies that waken all mistaken wh… The luminous mist which the poor t…
Tell me a word that you’ve often heard, yet it makes you squint when you see it in print! Tell me a thing
I saw the midlands Revolve through her hair; The fields of autumn Stretching bare, And sheep on the pasture
Mournfully to and fro, to and fro… What did you say, my dear? The rain-bruised leaves are sudden… Asleep still shakes in the clutch… Yes, my love, I hear.
YOU promised to send me some viol… White ones and blue ones from unde… Sweet dark purple, and white ones… Of our early love that hardly has… Here there’s an almond tree—you ha…
Yesterday the fields were only gre… And now the longest grass—leaves h… Yet her deep footsteps mark the sn… On towards the pines at the hills’… I cannot see her, since the mist’s…
They say the sea is cold, but the… the hottest blood of all, and the… All the whales in the wider deeps,… on and on, and dive beneath the ic… The right whales, the sperm—whales…
I wonder if with you, as it is wit… If under your slipping words, that… About you as a garment, easily, Your violent heart beats to and fr… Long have I waited, never once co…
The pine-trees bend to listen to t… Something which sets the black pop… While slowly the house of day is c… Further down the valley the cluste… Winding about their dimness the mi…
Many years have I still to burn,… Like a candle flame on this body;… A darkness within me, a presence w… In my flame of living, her soul en… And through these years, while I…