#EnglishWriters
Through the pale green forest of t… Whose interwoven fronds, a jade-gr… Above me glimmer, infinitely high, Towards my giant hand a beetle wal… In glistening emerald mail; and as…
A minx in khaki struts the limelit… With false moustache, set smirk an… And straddling legs and swinging h… To swagger it like a soldier, whil… Of rampant ragtime jangle, clash,…
In dream, again within the clean,… Of glazed and aching silence he wa… And, closing in, the blank walls o… Crushed stifling on him . . . when… Caught in his clutching fingers; a…
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,…
YOUTH that goes woolgathering, Mooning and stargazing, Always finding everything Full of fresh amazing, Best will meet the moment’s need
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,
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
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…
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…
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—
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…
In each black tile a mimic fire’s… And in the hearthlight old mahogan… Ripe with stored sunshine that in… Poured like gold wine into the liv… Summer on summer through a century…
I SOMETIMES wonder if it’s re… I ever knew Another life Than this unending strife With unseen enemies in lowland mud…
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…
He’s gone. I do not understand. I only know That as he turned to go And waved his hand,