"Men who march away"
IN FRONT OF THE LANDSCAPE
Plunging and labouring on in a tide of visions,
Dolorous and dear,
Forward I pushed my way as amid waste waters
Through whose eddies there glimmered the customed landscape
Yonder and near,
Blotted to feeble mist. And the coomb and the upland
Ancient chalk-pit, milestone, rills in the grass-flat
Stroked by the light,
Seemed but a ghost-like gauze, and no substantial
Meadow or mound.
What were the infinite spectacles bulking foremost
Under my sight,
Hindering me to discern my paced advancement
Lengthening to miles;
What were the re-creations killing the daytime
As by the night?
O they were speechful faces, gazing insistent,
Some as with smiles,
Some as with slow-born tears that brinily trundled
Over the wrecked
When everyone reads minds, a secret is a danger... Read more
Is The Iron Eagle a psychotic serial killer?
In the fall of 1984, Cold War tensions between... Read more
Author Al Macy is a character and a tightwad wi... Read more
The list of books below is based on the weekly downloads by our users regardless of eReader device or file format.
See more popular titles from this genre.