A worm fed on the heart of Corinth, …
Isaac Rosenberg
What in our lives is burnt …
The darkness crumbles away. …
The plunging limbers over the shattered track …
In his malodorous brain what slugs and mire, …
Nudes—stark and glistening, …
My eyes catch ruddy necks …
Snow is a strange white word; …
Sombre the night is: …
I love you, great new Titan! …
Moses, from whose loins I sprung, …
Grotesque and queerly huddled …
Through these pale cold days …