#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Flee into some forgotten night and… Of all dark long my moon-bright co… Beyond the rumour even of Paradis… There, out of all remembrance, mak… Seek we some close hid shadow for…
To Edward Thomas The haze of noon wanned silver-gre… The soundless mansion of the sun; The air made visible in his ray, Like molten glass from furnace run…
’Tis silence on the enchanted lake… And silence in the air serene, Save for the beating of her heart, The lovely-eyed Evangeline. She sings across the waters clear
Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Someone came knocking; I’m sure-sure-sure; I listened, I opened,
The seeds I sowed – For week unseen – Have pushed up pygmy Shoots of green; So frail you’d think
Who said, “Peacock Pie”? The old King to the sparrow: Who said, “Crops are ripe”? Rust to the harrow: Who said, “Where sleeps she now?
Come, Death, I’d have a word with… And thou, poor Innocency; And Love - a lad with broken win… Apnd Pity, too; The Fool shall sing to you,
Old and alone, sit we, Caged, riddle-rid men; Lost to earth’s ‘Listen!’ and ‘Se… Thought’s ‘Wherefore?’ and ‘When?… Only far memories stray
The far moon maketh lovers wise In her pale beauty trembling down, Lending curved cheeks, dark lips,… A strangeness not their own. And, though they shut their lids t…
What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass,
Speak not – whisper not; Here bloweth thyme and bergamot; Softly on the evening hour, Secret herbs their spices shower. Dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh,
All winter through I bow my head beneath the driving rain; the North Wind powders me with sn… and blows me black again; at midnight 'neath a maze of stars
Sterile these stones By time in ruin laid. Yet many a creeping thing Its haven has made In these least crannies, where fal…
Dry August burned. A harvest hare Limp on the kitchen table lay, Its fur blood-blubbered, eye astar… While a small child that stood nea… Wept out her heart to see it there…
How large unto the tiny fly Must little things appear!- A rosebud like a feather bed, Its prickle like a spear; A dewdrop like a looking-glass,