#EnglishWriters
HE wears a red rose in his button… A city-clerk on Sunday dining out… And as the music surges over the d… The heady quavering of the violin Sings through his blood, and puts…
“Two rows of cabbages, Two curly-greens, Two rows of early peas, Two of kidney-beans.” That’s what he is muttering,
They gave him a shilling, They gave him a gun; And so he’s gone killing The Germans, my son. I dream of that shilling—
Neck-deep in mud, He mowed and raved— He who had braved The field of bl… And as a lad Just out of school
Absorbing the clear green tranquil… Through the last hour before his e… In the lush verdure by the ruined… Tranced in a spell of viridescent… That with a solace of calm lucency
As a blue-necked mallard alighting… Among marsh-marigolds and splashin… Green leaves and yellow blooms, li… In bright, black mud, with clear d… Bringing keen savours of the sea a…
Out of the sparkling sea I drew my tingling body clear, and… On a low ledge the livelong summer… Basking, and watching lazily White sails in Falmouth Bay.
Indifferent, flippant, earnest, bu… The doctors sit in the glare of el… Watching the endless stream of nak… Bodies of men for whom their hasty… Means life or death maybe, or the…
Roman, Roman, what do you here? Your great Wall is fallen this ma… Fallen, fallen, the Roman Wall; And green grow the bent and the mo… The wind and the rain have tumbled…
Who is that woman, Philip, standi… Before the mirror doing up her hai… You’re dreaming, Phœbe, or the mo… Mixing and mingling with the dying… Makes shapes out of the darkness,…
As beneath the moon I walked, Dog-at-heel, my shadow stalked, Keeping ghostly company: And as we went gallantly Down the fell-road, dusty-white,
Broken, bewildered by the long ret… Across the stifling leagues of sou… Across the scorching leagues of tr… Half-stunned, half-blinded, by the… And dusty smother of the August h…
Still bathed in its moonlight slum… Stands silent against the red dawn… And nothing I know of who sleeps… Behind the blue curtains undrawn: But I dream as we march down the…
AS one, at midnight, wakened by t… Of golden-plovers in their seaward… Who lies and listens, as the clear… Through tingling silence of the fr… Who lies and listens, till the las…
Wind-flicked and ruddy her young b… In sunny shallows, splashing them… But when on rippled, silver sand s… And over her the little green wave… Coldly translucent and moon-colour…
