I. Triumphal March Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heelsOver the paving.And the flags. And the trumpets. And so many eagles.How many? Count them. And such a press of people.We hardly knew ourselves that day, or knew the City.This…
Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heelsOver the paving.And the flags. And the trumpets. And so many eagles.How many? Count them. And such a press of people.We hardly knew ourselves that day, or knew the City.This is the way…
CRY what shall I cry?All flesh is grass: comprehendingThe Companions of the Bath, the Knights of the British Empire, the Cavaliers,O Cavaliers! of the Legion of Honour,The Order of the Black Eagle (1st and 2nd class) ,And the Order of the…
Fragments of an Aristophanic Melodrama Orestes. You don’t see them, you don’t-but I see them.they are hunting me down, I must move on. …
DRAMATIS PERSONAE: SWEENEY. WAUCHOPE. HORSFALL. KLIPSTEIN. KRUMPACKER. SWARTS. SNOW. DORIS. DUSTY.(All PRESET IN SCENE) SWEENEY: ………………..I’ll carry you offTo a cannibal isle. DORIS: You’ll be the cannibal! SWEENEY:You’ll be the missionary!You’ll be my little seven stone missionary!I’ll gobble you up.…
There are several attitudes towards Christmas,Some of which we may disregard:The social, the torpid, the patently commercial,The rowdy (the pubs being open till midnight),And the childish – which is not that of the childFor whom the candle is a star,…
Quis hic locus, quae regio, quae mundi plaga? What seas what shores what grey rocks and what islandsWhat water lapping the bowAnd scent of pine and the woodthrush singing through the fogWhat images returnO my daughter. Those who sharpen the…
‘Issues from the hand of God, the simple soul’To a flat world of changing lights and noise,To light, dark, dry or damp, chilly or warm;Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs,Rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys,Advancing…
Lord, they Roman hyacinths are blooming in bowls andThe winder sun creeps by the snow hills;The stubborn season has made stand.My life is light, waiting for the death wind,Like a feather on the back of my hand.Dust in sunlight and…
‘A cold coming we had of it,Just the worst time of the yearFor a journey, and such a long journey:The ways deep and the weather sharp,The very dead of winter.’And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,Lying down in the melting snow.There…
