#English Modern
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…
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the love of the sun for a… He creates with his shine.
My world is a painted fresco, wher… Of old, ineffectual lives linger b… An endless tapestry the past has w… The halls of my life, compelling m… The surface of dreams is broken,
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...
Last night a thief came to me And struck at me with something da… I cried, but no one could hear me, I lay dumb and stark. When I awoke this morning
The profoundest of all sensualitie… is the sense of truth and the next deepest sensual exper… is the sense of justice.
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…
When the autumn roses Are heavy with dew, Before the mist discloses The leaf’s brown hue, You would, among the laughing hill…
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…
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…
The feelings I don’t have I don’t… The feeling I don’t have, I won’t… The feelings you say you have, you… The feelings you would like us bot… The feelings people ought to have,…
Her tawny eyes are onyx of thought… Hardened they are like gems in anc… Yea, and her mouth’s prudent and c… Means even less than her many word… Though her kiss betrays me also th…
Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and s… Of linen, go the chaunting chorist… The priests in gold and black, the… And all along the path to the ceme…
She is large and matronly And rather dirty, A little sardonic—looking, as if d… Though what she does, except lay f… And put up with her husband,
A big bud of moon hangs out of the… Star—spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten res… Watching us overhead. Come then under the trees, where t…