#English
In smoky lamplight of a Smyrna Ca… He saw them, seven solemn negroes… With faces rapt and out-thrust bel… In a slow solemn ceremonial cakewa… Dancing and prancing to the sombre…
When the plane dived and the machi… The deck, in his numb clutch the t… Bucked madly as he strove to keep… Zig-zagging, that was all that mat… To keep the ship zig-zagging endle…
They ask me where I’ve been, And what I’ve done and seen. But what can I reply Who know it wasn’t I, But someone just like me,
HE went, and he was gay to go; And I smiled on him as he went. My son, ’twas well he couldn’t kno… My darkest dread, nor what it mean… Just what it meant to smile and sm…
“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…
I WONDER if the old cow died or… Gey bad she was the night I left,… Dick reckoned she would mend. He… At least he fancies so himself, do… Dick knows a lot. But maybe I did…
ALL day the mallet thudded far be… My garret, in an old ramshackle sh… Where ceaselessly, with stiffly no… And rigid motions ever to and fro A figure like a puppet in a show
“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…
“Only just one plane lost”– the su… broadcasts the news of the success… and the lone mother knitting by th… Trembles, afraid, As in her anguished sight
A HANDFUL of cherries She gave me in passing, The wizened old woman, And wished me good luck– And again I was dreaming,
I SIT beside the brazier’s glow, And, drowsing in the heat, A dream of daffodils that blow And lambs that frisk and bleat— Black lambs that frolic in the sno…
They found her cold upon the bed. The cause of death, the doctor sai… Was nothing save the lack of bread… Her clothes were but a sorry rag That barely hid the nakedness
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…
Stuck in a bottle on the window-si… In the cold gaslight burning gaily… Against the luminous blue of Lond… These flowers are mine: while some… In some black-throated alley’s ste…
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—
