#EnglishWriters
A caravan from China comes; For miles it sweetens all the a… With fragrant silks and dreaming g… Attar and myrrh— A caravan from China comes.
The daisied dawn is in the sky, And the young day still dew and dr… When on the innocent morning air There comes a terrifying scream; And the four ends of the sad earth
Go, little book, and be the lookin… Of her dear soul, The mirror of her moments as they… Keeping the whole; Wherein she still may look on yest…
(TO JAMES WELCH) Dear Desk, Farewell! I spoke you… In phrases neither sweet nor soft, But at the end I come to see That thou a friend hast been to me…
When leaf and flower are newly mad… And bird and butterfly and bee Are at their summer posts again; When all is ready, lo! ’tis she, Suddenly there after soft rain–
Sometimes my idle heart would roam Far from its quiet happy nest, To seek some other newer home, Some unaccustomed Best: But ere it spreads its foolish win…
The Cry of the Little Peoples we… The Czech and the Pole, and the… We ask but a little portion of the… Only to sow and sing and reap in t… We ask not coaling stations, nor p…
Face in the tomb, that lies so sti… May I draw near, And watch your sleep and love you, Without word or tear. You smile, your eyelids flicker;
‘Is she still beautiful?’ I asked… Who of the unforgotten faces told That for long years I had not loo… ‘Beautiful still-but she is growin… And for a space I sorrowed, think…
Men say—beyond the western seas The happy isles no longer glow, No sailor sights Hesperides, All that was long ago. No longer in a glittering morn
God of the Wine List, roseate lor… And is it really then good-by? Of Prohibitionists abhorred, Must thou in sorry sooth then die, (O fatal morning of July!)
Soldier going to the war— Will you take my heart with you, So that I may share a little In the famous things you do? Soldier going to the war—
A little book, this grim November… Wherein, O tired heart, to creep… Come drink this wine and wear this… Nor heed the world, nor what the w… A thousand gardens-yet to-day ther…
There blooms a flower in Trebizon… Stored with such honey for the bee… (So saith the antique book I conn… Of such alluring fragrancy, Not sweeter smells the Eden-tree;
When winter comes and takes away t… And all the singing of sweet birds… The warm and honeyed world lost de… Still, independent of the summer s… In vain, with sullen roar,
