#EnglishWriters
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,
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…
YOUTH that goes woolgathering, Mooning and stargazing, Always finding everything Full of fresh amazing, Best will meet the moment’s need
The biggest crane on earth, it lif… Two hundred ton more easily Than I can lift my heavy head: And when it swings, the whole worl… Or so, at least, it seems to me,
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…
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,
Your face was lifted to the golden… Ablaze beyond the black roofs of t… As flame on flame leapt, flourishi… Its tumult of red stars exultantly To the cold constellations dim and…
Night shatters in mid-heaven: the… The roar of planes, the crash of b… The unshackled sky pandemonium stu… The senses to indifference, when a… Of masonry near by startles awake,
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…
We who are left, how shall we look… Happily on the sun or feel the rai… Without remembering how they who w… Ungrudgingly and spent Their lives for us loved, too, the…
“And will you cut a stone for him, To set above his head? And will you cut a stone for him— A stone for him?” she said. Three days before, a splintered ro…
A HANDFUL of cherries She gave me in passing, The wizened old woman, And wished me good luck– And again I was dreaming,
Into the twilight of Trafalgar Sq… They pour from every quarter, bang… And tootling penny trumpets: to a… Of tin mouth-organs, while a sailo… A solitary banjo, lads and girls,
All night under the moon Plovers are flying Over the dreaming meadows of silve… Over the meadows of June, Flying and crying—
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…