#English Modern
The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun… The crisping steam of a train Melts in the air, while two black… Sweep past the window again. Along the vacant road, a red
What large, dark hands are those a… Lifted, grasping the golden light Which weaves its way through the c… To my heart’s delight? Ah, only the leaves! But in the w…
Tell me a word that you’ve often heard, yet it makes you squint when you see it in print! Tell me a thing
The frost has settled down upon th… And ruthlessly strangled off the f… Of leaves that have gone unnoticed… Romantic stories now no more to be… The trees down the boulevard stand…
Reject me not if I should say to… I do forget the sounding of your v… I do forget your eyes that searchi… The mists perceive our marriage, a… Yet, when the apple—blossom opens…
Somewhere the long mellow note of… Quickens the unclasping hands of h… Somewhere the wind—flowers fling t… Stirred by an impetuous wind. Som… All be sweet with white and blue v…
THE clouds are pushing in grey re… While north of them all, at the fa… With fire as it guards the wild no… The rocks where ravens flying to w… You should be out by the orchard,…
I thought he was dumb, I said he was dumb, Yet I’ve heard him cry. First faint scream, Out of life’s unfathomable dawn,
There are only two things now, The great black night scooped out And this fireglow. This fireglow, the core, And we the two ripe pips
The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, ma… Everything, tear-trembling stars o… And the snore of the night in my e… For suddenly, flush-fallen,
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;
I wish it were spring in the world… Let it be spring! Come, bubbling, surging tide of sa… Come, rush of creation! Come, life! surge through this mas…
I wonder, can the night go by; Can this shot arrow of travel fly Shaft—golden with light, sheer int… Of a dawned to—morrow, Without ever sleep delivering us
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,
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…
