sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

1885 - 1930/Male/EnglishA novelist, poet, playwright, essayist, literary critic and painter whose works explore the dehumanising effects of modernity and industrialisation, sexuality, emotional health, vitality, spontaneity, and instinct.
View profile & all 24 Poems / StoriesAll people dream, but not equally.Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
The Cross, the CrossGoes deeper in than we know,
The youth walks up to the white horse, to put its halter onand the horse looks at him in silence.
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
They say the sea is cold, but the sea containsthe hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge