#English #XXCentury
Those moments, tasted once and nev… Of long surf breaking in the mid-d… A far-off blow—hole booming like a… The seagulls plane and circle out… Below this thirsty, thrift-encrust…
Highbridge wharf your hopes have d… They float like driftwood down the… Out, out into the open sea Oh, sad, forgotten S and D
The heavy mahogany door with its w… Shuts. And the sound is rich, sym… The sun still shines on this eight… With Edwardian faience adornment—… No hope. And the X-ray photograph…
Come, friendly bombs, and fall on… It isn’t fit for humans now, There isn’t grass to graze a cow Swarm over, Death! Come, bombs, and blow to smitheree…
The gas was on in the Institute, The flare was up in the gym, A man was running a mineral line, A lass was singing a hymn, When Captain Webb the Dawley man…
Cocooned in Time, at this inhuman… The packaged food tastes neutrally… We never seem to catch the running… But travel on in everlasting night With all the chic accoutrements of…
Bells are booming down the bohreen… White the mist along the grass, Now the Julias, Maeves and Maure… Move between the fields to Mass. Twisted trees of small green apple
Here among long-discarded cassocks… Damp stools, and half-split open h… Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books… Lean and alone I spend my days
I am a young executive. No cuffs… I have a Slimline brief-case and… In every roadside hostelry from he… The maîtres d’hôtel all know me we… You ask me what it is I do. Well,…
We used to picnic where the thrift Grew deep and tufted to the edge; We saw the yellow foam flakes drif… In trembling sponges on the ledge Below us, till the wind would lift
High dormers are rising So sharp and surprising, And ponticum edges The driveways of gravel; Stone houses from ledges
The flag that hung half-mast today Seemed animate with being As if it knew for who it flew And will no more be seeing. He loved each corner of the links–
The sleepy sound of a tea-time tid… Slaps at the rocks the sun has dri… Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift Round low peninsulas pink with thr… The water, enlarging shells and sa…
Dr Ramsden cannot read The Times… He’s dead. Let monographs on silk worms by ot… Thrown away Unread
At the end of a long-walled garden… A brick path led to a mulberry– sc… I lay under blackening branches wh… Sheltering ruby fruit globes from… Apple and plum espaliers basked up…
