Louder than gulls the little child… Whom fathers haul into the jovial… But others fearlessly rush in, bre… Laughing the salty water from thei… Heroes of the nursery.
Henry, Henry, do you love me? Do I love you, Mary? Oh, can you mean to liken me To the aspen tree. Whose leaves do shake and vary,
I now delight In spite Of the might And the right Of classic tradition,
The vague sea thuds against the ma… And from their fragments age-long… Pebbles like flowers. Or the vague weather wanders in th… And up spring flowers with coloure…
Love without hope, as when the you… Swept off his tall hat to the Squ… So let the imprisoned larks escape… Singing about her head, as she rod…
Penthesileia, dead of profuse wond… Was despoiled of her arms by Prin… Who, for love of that fierce white… Necrophily on her committed In the public view.
Why have such scores of lovely, gi… Married impossible men? Simple self—sacrifice may be ruled… And missionary endeavour, nine tim… Repeat “impossible men”: not merel…
Desire, first, by a natural miracl… United bodies, united hearts, blaz… Transcended bodies, transcended he… Two souls, now unalterably one In whole love always and for ever,
On her shut lids the lightning fli… Thunder explodes above her bed, An inch from her lax arm the rain… Discrete she lies, Not dead but entranced, dreamlessl…
Back from the line one night in J… I gave a dinner at Bethune— Seven courses, the most gorgeous m… Money could buy or batman steal. Five hungry lads welcomed the fish
SHE: You’ll not forget these roc… HE: How could I? Never: whatever… SHE: What do you think might hap… Might you fall out of love? —did y… HE: Never, never! `Whatever’ was…
As Jane walked out below the hill… She saw an old man standing still, His eyes in tranced sorrow bound On the broad stretch of barren gro… His limbs were knarled like aged t…
Thick and scented daisies spread Where with surface dull like lead Arabian pools of slime invite Manticors down from neighbouring h… To dip heads, to cool fiery blood
The butterfly, the cabbage white, (His honest idiocy of flight) Will never now, it is too late, Master the art of flying straight, Yet has —who knows so well as I?…
The hunter to the husbandman Pays tribute since our love began, And to love—loyalty dedicates The phantom kills he meditates. Let me embrace, embracing you,
