Out of the blackthorn edges
I caught a tune
13 lines, 1 comment
After the dread tales and red yams of the Line
Anything might have come to us; but the divine
16 lines
Certain people would not clean their buttons,
Nor polish buckles after latest fashions,
16 lines, 5 comments
Watching the dark my spirit rose in flood
On that most dearest Prelude of my delight.
8 lines
Only the wanderer
Knows England's graces,
8 lines
Pain, pain continual; pain unending;
Hard even to the roughest, but to those
13 lines
When I remember plain heroic strength
And shining virtue shown by Ypres pools,
14 lines
My heart makes songs on lonely roads
To comfort me while you're away,
13 lines
Lying in dug-outs, joking idly, wearily;
Watching the candle guttering in the draught;
28 lines
The long night, the short sleep, and La Gorgues to wander,
So be the Fates were kind and our Commander;
30 lines
O does some blind fool now stand on my hill
To see how Ashleworth nestles by the river?
18 lines
I straightened my back from turmut-hoeing
And saw, with suddenly opened eyes,
13 lines
Life softly clanging cymbals were
Plane-trees, poplars Autumn had
28 lines
The tiny daisies are
Not anything
22 lines
There was such beauty in the dappled valley
As hurt the sight, the heart stabbed to tears.
15 lines
On uplands bleak and bare to wind
Beneath a maze of stars I strode;
25 lines
When from the curve of the wood's edge does grow
Power, and that spreads to envelope me —
14 lines
When clouds shake out their sails
Before delighted gales,
24 lines
Gone bare the fields now, and the starlings gather,
Whirr above stubble and soft changing hedges.
13 lines
The songs I had are withered
Or vanished clean,
8 lines
Dawn comes up on London,
And night's undone.
24 lines
The ploughed field and the fallow field
They sang a prudent song to me;
14 lines, 1 comment
I think the loathed minutes one by one
That tear and then go past are little worth
8 lines
When I am covered with the dust of peace
And but the rain to moist my senseless clay,
14 lines
Of course not all the watchers of the dawn
See Severn mists like forced-march mists withdraw
8 lines
The horses of day plunge and are restrained
Dawn broadens to quarter height, and the meadow mists
8 lines
Had I a song
I would sing it here
8 lines
What evil coil of Fate has fastened me
Who cannot move to sight, whose bread is sight,
7 lines
The hoe scrapes earth as fine in grain as sand,
I like the swirl of it and the swing in the hand
8 lines
I will not droop my soiled flag,
Nor turn a thought on my own shame,
12 lines
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