- Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough!
It isn't fit for humans now,
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!
- "Slough" line 1, from Continual Dew NO SPACE BELOW THIS LINE
- He sipped at a weak hock and seltzer
As he gazed at the London skies
Through the Nottingham lace of the curtains
Or was it his bees-winged eyes?
- "The Arrest of Oscar Wilde at the Cadogan Hotel" SINGLE SPACE BELOW THIS LINE
- Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans.
Spare their women for Thy Sake,
And if that is not too easy,
We will pardon Thy Mistake.
But, gracious Lord, whate'er shall be,
Don't let anyone bomb me.
- "In Westminster Abbey" line 1, DOUBLE SPACE BELOW THIS LINE
- He would have liked to say goodbye,
Shake hands with many friends.
In Highgate now his finger-bones
Stick through his finger-ends.
You, God, who treat him thus and thus,
Say, "Save his soul and pray."
You ask me to believe You and
I only see decay.
- "On a Portrait of a Deaf Man" line 25, from Old Lights for New Chancels
- Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament — you against me!
- "A Subaltern's Love-song" line 1, from New Bats in Old Belfries (1945)