#EnglishWriters
WHEN up the fretful, creaking st… From floor to floor I creep On tiptoe, lest I wake from their… The unknown lodgers lying, layer o…
So long had I travelled the lonel… Though, now and again, a wayfairin… Walked shoulder to shoulder, and l… I often would think to myself as… No comrade will journey with you t…
AS I was marching in Flanders A ghost kept step with me— Kept step with me and chuckled And muttered ceaselessly: “Once I too marched in Flanders,
When consciousness came back, he f… Between the opposing fires, but co… On which hand were his friends; an… For him to turn was chancy—bullet… Whistling and shrieking over him,…
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,
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
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…
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—
Crouched on the crowded deck, we w… In naked gold leap out of a cold s… Of shivering silver; and stretchin… Crampt legs and arms, relieved tha… And the slinking, deep-sea peril p…
A blue-black Nubian plucking oran… At Jaffa by a sea of malachite, In red tarboosh, green sash, and f… Burnous—among the shadowy memories That haunt me yet by these bleak n…
The Lonely Road So long had I travelled the lonel… Though, now and again, a wayfairin… Walked shoulder to shoulder, and l… I often would think to myself as…
THOUGH three men dwell on Flann… To keep the lamp alight, As we steered under the lee, we ca… No glimmer through the night.” A passing ship at dawn had brought
“I cannot quite remember.... Ther… Dropt dead beside me in the trench… Whispered their dying messages to… Back from the trenches, more dead… Stone-deaf and dazed, and with a b…
My hands were hot upon a hare, Half-strangled, struggling in a sn… My knuckles at her warm wind-pipe— When suddenly, her eyes shot back, Big, fearful, staggering and black…
She must go back, she said, Because she’d not had time to make… We’d hurried her away So roughly . . . and for all that… She broke from us, and passed