#English Modern
Thought, I love thought. But not the juggling and twisting… I despise that self—important game… Thought is the welling up of unkno… Thought is the testing of statemen…
The moon is broken in twain, and h… Before me lies on the still, pale… The other half of the broken coin… Is buried away in the dark, where… They buried her half in the grave…
The quick sparks on the gorse—bush… Little jets of sunlight texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They have triumphed again o’er the… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
As we live, we are transmitters of… And when we fail to transmit life,… That is part of the mystery of sex… Sexless people transmit nothing. And if, as we work, we can transmi…
The train in running across the we… So even, it beats like silence, an… Embrace of darkness lie around, an… And littered lettering of leaves a… The open book of landscape no more…
Since I lost you I am silence—hau… Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings… Whether the people in the street
The little pansies by the road hav… Away their purple faces and their… And evening has taken all the bees… And all the scent is shed away by… Against the hard and pale blue eve…
Love has crept out of her sealéd h… As a field-bee, black and amber, Breaks from the winter-cell, to cl… Up the warm grass where the sunbea… Mischief has come in her dawning e…
Ah, my darling, when over the purp… The shrouded mother of a new idea,… Cry out and fend her off, as she s… Wounding themselves against her, d…
Always, sweetheart, Carry into your room the blossomin… Almond and apple and pear diffuse… Soon strews itself on the floor; a… Fresh quivering; keep the sunny—sw…
What large, dark hands are those a… Lifted, grasping in the yellow lig… Which makes its way through the cu… At my heart to—night? Ah, only the leaves! So leave me…
Tell me a word that you’ve often heard, yet it makes you squint when you see it in print! Tell me a thing
My little love, my darling, You were a doorway to me; You let me out of the confines Into this strange countrie, Where people are crowded like this…
I saw the midlands Revolve through her hair; The fields of autumn Stretching bare, And sheep on the pasture
At evening, sitting on this terrac… When the sun from the west, beyond… Departs, and the world is taken by… When the tired flower of Florence… Brown hills surrounding...