Church Going (Philip Larkin Poem)
Once I am sure there's nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut. Another church: matting, seats, ...
Once I am sure there's nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut. Another church: matting, seats, ...
Eyes aloft, over dangerous places, The children follow the butterflies, And, in the sweat of their upturned faces, Slash with ...
We have a small sculpture of Henry James on our terrace in New York City. Nothing would surprise him. The ...
The carts squeak and trundle, the horses whinny, the conscripts go by, each with a bow and arrows at his ...
I wake and hearing it raining. Were I dead, what would I give Lazily to lie here, Like this, and ...
Shall I get drunk or cut myself a piece of cake, a pasty Syrian with a few words of English ...
Love walked alone. The rocks cut her tender feet, And the brambles tore her fair limbs. There came a companion ...
Up this green woodland-ride let's softly rove, And list the nightingale- she dwells just here. Hush ! let the wood-gate ...
You know the brick path in the back of the house, the one you see from the kitchen window, the ...
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village ...
she was a short one getting fat and she had once been beautiful and she drank the wine she drank ...
Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; And charging along like troops in a battle ...
My hand, a little raised, might press a star- Where I may look, the frosted peaks are spun, So shaped ...
It was the Bondi golfing man Drove off from the golf house tee, And he had taken his little daughter ...
I Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us . . . Wearied we keep awake ...
Halted against the shade of a last hill, They fed, and, lying easy, were at ease And, finding comfortable chests ...
Like the vain curlings of the watery maze, Which in smooth streams a sinking weight does raise, So Man, declining ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
Like the vain Curlings of the Watry maze, Which in smooth streams a sinking Weight does raise; So Man, declining ...
Palacio, good friend, is spring there showing itself on branches of black poplars by the roads and river? On the ...
To-day the woods are trembling through and through With shimmering forms, that flash before my view, Then melt in green ...
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