Witchcraft: New Style (Lascelles Abercrombie Poems)
The sun drew off at last his piercing fires.Over the stale warm air, dull as a pondAnd moveless in the ...
The sun drew off at last his piercing fires.Over the stale warm air, dull as a pondAnd moveless in the ...
I KNOW you, Crane:I, too, have waited,Waited until my heartMelted to little pools around my feet!Comer in the morning ere ...
(For Kenneth)CLOSE upon the window-glass pressed our eager faces-Hearts and torches all aflare, frame on frame of laces,Wreathing roses all ...
(Lines read at the dinner given to its members upon their retirement)HAPPY the man who with steadfast devotionWalks through the ...
Now what do you want to be playing about for,Reefing and reaching your head for the bit?This is the gentlest ...
On Nungar the mists of the morning hung low,The beetle-browed hills brooded silent and black,Not yet warmed to life by ...
The Western sun, ere he sought his lair, Skimm'd the treetops, and ...
The sea asleep like a dreamer sighs; The salt rock-pools lie still in the sun, Except for ...
Round by the black barn and the shrunken pond,Now treading slow, now sidling proudly on,Through warm air startled by his ...
The Bell in the convent tower swung. High overhead the great sun hung, A navel for the curving sky. The ...
Fire lighted; on the table a meal for sleepy men; A lantern in the stable; a jingle now and then; ...
I He would drink by himself And raise a weathered thumb Towards the high shelf, Calling another rum And blackcurrant, ...
I. The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As ...
I. Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak, ``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' ...
We caught the tread of dancing feet, We loitered down the moonlit street, And stopped beneath the harlot's house. Inside, ...
(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration) In a dim corner of my room for longer than my fancy ...
Sidling upon the river, the white boat Has volleyed with its cannon all the morning, Shaken the shore towns like ...
Through thick Arcadian woods a hunter went, Following the beasts upon a fresh spring day; But since his horn-tipped bow ...
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