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Louis MacNeice

Winter 1941

The Dowser

By Louis MacNeice

An inkling only, whisper in the bonesOf strange weather on the way,Twitch of the eyelid, shadow of a passing bird.It is coming some time soon. What? or who? An inkling […]

Winter 1941

Picture Galleries

By Louis MacNeice

Strolling, guidebook in hand, along the varnished parquetWe meet the calm of opium in the long galleries,   An under-water dream, a closedWorld whose people live in frames, the flames of their […]