#English Modern
At the open door of the room I st… Hold my hand to catch the raindrop… Arriving grey from the darkness ab… I will escape from the hollow room… And be out in the bewildering dark…
Ah in the thunder air how still the trees are! And the lime—tree, lovely and tall… hardly looses even a last breath o… And the ghostly, creamy coloured l…
The new red houses spring like pla… In level rows Of reddish herbage that bristles a… Its square shadows. The pink young houses show one sid…
Yours is the sullen sorrow, The disgrace is also mine; Your love was intense and thorough… Mine was the love of a growing flo… For the sunshine.
A faint, sickening scent of irises Persists all morning. Here in a j… A fine proud spike of purple irise… Rising above the class—room litter… To see the class’s lifted and bend…
She bade me follow to her garden w… The mellow sunlight stood as in a… Between the old grey walls; I did… To raise my face, I did not dare… Lest her bright eyes like sparrows…
See the stars, love, In the water much clearer and brig… Than those above us, and whiter, Like nenuphars. Star—shadows shine, love,
The shorn moon trembling indistinc… Frail as a scar upon the pale blue… Draws towards the downward slope:… Worn her down to the quick, so she… Along her foot—searched way withou…
A wind comes from the north Blowing little flocks of birds Like spray across the town, And a train, roaring forth, Rushes stampeding down
She is large and matronly And rather dirty, A little sardonic—looking, as if d… Though what she does, except lay f… And put up with her husband,
Along the avenue of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks and su… Of linen, go the chanting choriste… The priests in gold and black, the… And all along the path to the ceme…
Making his advances He does not look at her, nor sniff… No, not even sniff at her, his nos… Only he senses the vulnerable fold… That work beneath her while she sp…
High and smaller goes the moon, sh… Wistful and candid, watching me wi… Trembling blue in her pallor a tea… A tear which I had hoped that eve…
The profoundest of all sensualitie… is the sense of truth and the next deepest sensual exper… is the sense of justice.
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…
