Lights Out (Edward Thomas Poems)
I have come to the borders of sleep, The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, ...
I have come to the borders of sleep, The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, ...
470I am alive-I guess-The Branches on my HandAre full of Morning Glory-And at my finger's end-The Carmine-tingles warm-And if I ...
By a cliff a golden cloud once lingered; On his breast it slept… From the swing, from the garden, helter-skelter, ...
When I am sitting at the window,Through the panes, which the snow blurs,I see the lovely images, hers, asShe passes… ...
Light drunkenly reels into shadow;Blurs, slurs uneasily;Slides off the eyeballs:The segments shatter.Tree-branches cut arc-light in raggedFluttering wet strips.The cup of ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
Out West, where the stars are brightest, Where the scorching north wind blows, And the bones of the dead gleam ...
Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows ' flaunt forth, then chevy on an air- built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs ' they ...
The flats, tidal, far from shore, reeds, grasses, rushes morphing from green golden tan, brown the week before autumn officially ...
I am alive -- I guess -- The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory -- And at ...
I watch the man bend over his patch, a fat gunny sack at his feet. He combs the earth with ...
(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration) In a dim corner of my room for longer than my fancy ...
Light drunkenly reels into shadow; Blurs, slurs uneasily; Slides off the eyeballs: The segments shatter. Tree-branches cut arc-light in ragged ...
I have come to the borders of sleep, The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, ...
In the grey beginning of years, in the twilight of things that began, The word of the earth in the ...
(ALEXANDRIA-MARSEILLES) Out in the blustering darkness, on the deck A gleam of stars looks down. Long blurs of black, The ...
BY day the skyscraper looms in the smoke and sun and has a soul. Prairie and valley, streets of the ...
FLAT lands on the end of town where real estate men are crying new subdivisions, The sunsets pour blood and ...
Blessed with a joy that only she Of all alive shall ever know, She wears a proud humility For what ...
Day of mist: day of tarnish with hands unserviceable, I wait for the milk van the one-eared cat laps its ...
A solitary apartment house, the last one before the boulevard ends and a dusty road winds its slow way out ...
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