#English Modern
The Cross, the Cross Goes deeper in than we know, Deeper into life; Right into the marrow And through the bone.
Her tawny eyes are onyx of thought… Hardened they are like gems in anc… Yea, and her mouth’s prudent and c… Means even less than her many word… Though her kiss betrays me also th…
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 darkness steals the forms of a… But oh, the palms of his two black… Inflamed with binding up the sheav… Hours that were once all glory and… And I remember all the sunny hour…
Many years have I still to burn,… Like a candle flame on this body;… A darkness within me, a presence w… In my flame of living, her soul en… And through these years, while I…
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
Not I, not I, but the wind that b… A fine wind is blowing the new dir… If only I let it bear me, carry m… If only I am sensitive, subtle, o… If only, most lovely of all, I yi…
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…
We’ve made a great mess of love Since we made an ideal of it. The moment I swear to love a woma… That moment I begin to hate her. The moment I even say to a woman:…
The little river twittering in the… The wan, wandering look of the pal… This is almost bliss. And everything shut up and gone to… All the troubles and anxieties and…
This spring as it comes bursts up… Wild puffing of emerald trees, and… Thorn—blossom lifting in wreaths o… Where the wood fumes up and the wa… I am amazed at this spring, this c…
It is conceit that kills us and makes us cowards instead of go… Under the great Command: Know thy… we have become fatally self—consci… Now we have to admit we can’t know…
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
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
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…