Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares…
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went, And took the fire with him, and a knife. And as…
Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer…