Bagpipe Music (Louis MacNeice Poems)
It's no go the merrygoround, it's no go the rickshaw, All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the ...
It's no go the merrygoround, it's no go the rickshaw, All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the ...
I am not yet born; O hear me.Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or theclub-footed ...
I was born in Belfast between the mountain and the gantriesTo the hooting of lost sirens and the clang of ...
The Junes were free and full, driving through tinyRoads, the mudguards brushing the cowparsley,Through fields of mustard and under boldly ...
In my childhood trees were greenAnd there was plenty to be seen. Come back early or never come. My father ...
And this, ladies and gentlemen, whom I am not in factConducting, was his office all those minutes ago,This man you ...
My father made the walls resound,He wore his collar the wrong way round.When I was five the black dreamscame;Nothing after ...
Forty-two years ago (to me if to no one elseThe number is of some interest) it was a brilliant starry ...
Down the road someone is practising scales,The notes like little fishes vanish with a wink of tails,Man's heart expands to ...
I do not want to be reflective any moreEnvying and despising unreflective thingsFinding pathos in dogs and undeveloped handwritingAnd young ...
The sunlight on the gardenHardens and grows cold,We cannot cage the minuteWithin its nets of gold;When all is toldWe cannot ...
Well, I dreamt it was a hot day, the territorialsWere out on melting asphalt under the howitzers,The brass music bounced ...
It all began so easyWith bricks upon the floorBuilding motley housesAnd knocking down your housesAnd always building more.The doll was ...
Only let it form within his hands once more -The moment cradled like a brandy glass.Sitting alone in the empty ...
Rows of books around me stand,Fence me in on either hand;Through that forest of dead wordsI would hunt the living ...
A spiral of green hay on the end of a rake:The moment is sweat and sun-prick---children and old womenBig in ...
The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink rose against it Soundlessly collateral and ...
Indoors the tang of a tiny oil lamp. Outdoors The winking signal on the waste of sea. Indoors the sound ...
This brand of soap has the same smell as once in the big House he visited when he was eight: ...
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