Far out of bounds he's figured - in a race Of West-End traffic pitching to his loss. But if you'd see him in his proper place, Making the browns for bub and grub and doss,...
Joy of the Milliner, Envy of the Line, Star of the Parks, jack-booted, sworded, helmed, He sits between his holsters, solid of spine; Nor, as it seems, though WESTMINSTER were whelmed,...
His beat lies knee-high through a dust of story - A dust of terror and torture, grief and crime; Ghosts that are ENGLAND'S wonder, and shame, and glory Throng where he walks, an antic of old time;...
Army Reserve; a worshipper of BOBS, With whom he stripped the smock from CANDAHAR; Neat as his mount, that neatest among cobs; Whenever pageants pass, or meetings are, He moves conspicuous, vigilant, severe,...
So went our boys when EDWARD SIXTH, the King, Chartered CHRIST'S HOSPITAL, and died. And so Full fifteen generations in a string Of heirs to his bequest have had to go....
Time, the old humourist, has a trick to-day Of moving landmarks and of levelling down, Till into Town the Suburbs edge their way, And in the Suburbs you may scent the Town....
'LIZA'S old man's perhaps a little shady, 'LIZA'S old woman's prone to booze and cringe; But 'LIZA deems herself a perfect lady, And proves it in her feathers and her fringe....
An ill March noon; the flagstones gray with dust; An all-round east wind volleying straws and grit; ST. MARTIN'S STEPS, where every venomous gust Lingers to buffet, or sneap, the passing cit;...
Who says Drum-Major says a man of mould, Shaking the meek earth with tremendous tread, And pacing still, a triumph to behold, Of his own spine at least two yards ahead!...
There's never a delicate nurseling of the year But our huge LONDON hails it, and delights To wear it on her breast or at her ear, Her days to colour and make sweet her nights. Crocus and daffodil and violet,...
Though, if you ask her name, she says ELISE, Being plain ELIZABETH, e'en let it pass, And own that, if her aspirates take their ease, She ever makes a point, in washing glass,...
Take any station, pavement, circus, corner, Where men their styles of print may call or choose, And there - ten times more on it than JACK HORNER - There shall you find him swathed in sheets of news....
St. Margaret's bells, Quiring their innocent, old-world canticles, Sing in the storied air, All rosy-and-golden, as with memories Of woods at evensong, and sands and seas...
Forth from the dust and din, The crush, the heat, the many-spotted glare, The odour and sense of life and lust aflare, The wrangle and jangle of unrests, Let us take horse, Dear Heart, take horse and win -...
Down through the ancient Strand The spirit of October, mild and boon And sauntering, takes his way This golden end of afternoon, As though the corn stood yellow in all the land,...
Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence released From the most squalid cellarage of hell, The Wind-Fiend, the abominable -...
Spring winds that blow As over leagues of myrtle-blooms and may; Bevies of spring clouds trooping slow, Like matrons heavy bosomed and aglow With the mild and placid pride of increase! Nay,...
In the waste hour Between to-day and yesterday We watched, while on my arm - Living flesh of her flesh, bone of her bone - Dabbled in sweat the sacred head...
Midsummer midnight skies, Midsummer midnight influences and airs, The shining, sensitive silver of the sea Touched with the strange-hued blazonings of dawn; And all so solemnly still I seem to hear...
Not to the staring Day, For all the importunate questionings he pursues In his big, violent voice, Shall those mild things of bulk and multitude, The Trees - God's sentinels...