Briggflatts – Part I (Basil Bunting Poems)
I Brag, sweet tenor bull, descant on Rawthey's madrigal, each pebble its part for the fells' late spring. Dance tiptoe, ...
I Brag, sweet tenor bull, descant on Rawthey's madrigal, each pebble its part for the fells' late spring. Dance tiptoe, ...
'Twas a brave old spot, and deep was the shadeBy the fast-locked boughs of the elm-trees made,Where the sun scarce ...
"SUMMER Winds, whispering over the rye,Kissing the roses and hurrying by,Where have ye latest been, 0 where?Merrily tangling my maiden's ...
Joy to Philip, he this dayHas his long coats cast away,And (the childish season gone)Puts the manly breeches on.Officer on ...
I KNOW a way Of hearing what the larks and linnets say: The larks tell of the sunshine and ...
The world's a very happy place, Where every child should dance and sing,And always have a smiling face, And never ...
UP and down the lanes of love,With the bright blue skies above,And the grass beneath our feet,O, so green and ...
Snow is falling: snow is falling.Geranium flowers reachfor the blizzard's small white starspast the window's edge. Snow is falling, all ...
Up in the attic where I sleptWhen I was a boy, a little boy,In through the lattice the moonlight crept,Bringing ...
"ALL up and down in shadow-town The shadow children go; In every street you 're sure to meet ...
As the road runs beneath our wheelsLike a yellow river, We play at hide-and-seek with the setting sun.Now at the ...
When baby wakes of mornings,Then it's wake, ye people all!For another dayOf song and playHas come at our darling's call!And, ...
I rather think I would not wish,If I might choose, to be a fish.They cannot play with bat or ball.For ...
Up in the attic where I slept When I was a boy, a little boy, In through the lattice the ...
When baby wakes of mornings, Then it's wake, ye people all! For another day Of song and play Has come ...
Home, for my heart still calls me; Home, through the danger zone; Home, whatever befalls me, I will sail again ...
Kind o'er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy, White o'er the playpen the sheen of her dress, Fresh from the bathroom ...
THE LANDS OF MY CHILDHOOD 1 I am leaving the holy city of Leeds For the last time for the ...
(After Rilke) Spring has returned! Everything has returned! The earth, just like a schoolgirl, memorizes Poems, so many poems. ... ...
Sling me under the sea. Pack me down in the salt and wet. No farmer's plow shall touch my bones. ...
Well, Bokardo, here we are; Make yourself at home. Look around-you haven't far To look-and why be dumb? Not the ...
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