THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE

Christopher Marlowe
COME live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocs,
!eein" the shepherds feed their flocs
#y shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sin" madri"als.
And $ will mae thee beds of roses
And a thousand fra"rant posies;
A cap of flowers, and a irtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A "own made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
%air&lined slippers for the cold,
With bucles of the purest "old;
A belt of straw and ivy&buds,
With coral clasps and amber&studs'
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.
The shepherd&swains shall dance and sin"
%or thy deli"ht each May&mornin"'
$f these deli"hts thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
mcpapango_englit 1
SONNET 18
William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of ay!
"nd summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines!
"nd often is his gold comple#ion dimmed!
"nd every fair from fair sometime declines!
$y chance! or nature's changing course untrimmed:
$ut thy eternal summer shall not fade!
%or lose possession of that fair thou ow'st!
%or shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade!
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st!
So long as men can breathe! or eyes can see!
So long lives this! and this gives life to thee&
Sonnet 29
William Shakespeare
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state!
"nd trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries!
"nd look upon myself! and curse my fate!
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope!
'eatured like him! like him with friends possessed!
(esiring this man's art! and that man's scope!
With what I most en)oy contented least*
+et in these thoughts my self almost despising!
,aply I think on thee! and then my state!
-ike to the lark at break of day arising
'rom sullen earth! sings hymns at heaven's gate*
'or thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings&
Sonnet 30
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past!
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought!
"nd with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye! unused to flow!
'or precious friends hid in death's dateless night!
"nd weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe!
"nd moan the e#pense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone!
"nd heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore.bemoaned moan!
Which I new pay as if not paid before&
$ut if the while I think on thee! dear friend!
"ll losses are restor'd and sorrows end&
Sonnet 50
William Shakespeare
%ot marble! nor the gilded monuments
/f princes! shall outlive this powerful rhyme*
$ut you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone! besmear'd with sluttish time&
When wasteful war shall statues overturn!
"nd broils root out the work of masonry!
%or ars his sword! nor war's 0uick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory&
'1ainst death! and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth* your praise shall still find room
2ven in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom&
So! till the )udgment that yourself arise!
+ou live in this! and dwell in lovers' eyes&
SONNET 116
William Shakespeare
-et me not to the marriage of true minds
"dmit impediments& -ove is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds!
/r bends with the remover to remove:
/! no3 it is an ever.fi#ed mark!
That looks on tempests and is never shaken*
It is the star to every wandering bark!
Whose worth's unknown! although his height be taken&
-ove's not Time's fool! though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come*
-ove alters not with his brief hours and weeks!
$ut bears it out even to the edge of doom&
If this be error and upon me proved!
I never writ! nor no man ever loved&
Song to Celia
Ben Jonson
(rin to me, only with thine eyes
And $ will pled"e with mine;
Or leave a iss but in the cup,
And $)ll not loo for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
(oth as a drin divine'
#ut mi"ht $ of *ove)s nectar sup
$ would not chan"e for thine.
$ sent thee late a rosy wreath,
+ot so much honourin" thee
As "ivin" it a hope that there
$t could not withered be
#ut thou thereon didst only breath
And sent)st it bac to me'
!ince, when it "rows and smells, $ swear,
+ot of itself but thee.
A RENOUNCING OF LOVE
Sir Thoas !"att
%A,EWE--, -ove, and all thy laws forever ;
Thy baited hoos shall tan"le me no more.
!enec, and .lato, call me from thy lore,
To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour ;
$n blind error when $ did persever,
Thy sharp repulse, that priceth aye so sore,
Tau"ht me in trifles that $ set no store ;
#ut scaped forth thence, since, liberty is lever
Therefore, farewell / "o trouble youn"er hearts,
And in me claim no more authority '
With idle youth "o use thy property,
And thereon spend thy many brittle darts '
%or, hitherto thou"h $ have lost my time,
Me list no lon"er rotten bou"hs to clime.
My True-Love Hath My Heart (from "R4"(I"5
Sir Phili# Si$ne"
My true&love hath my heart, and $ have his,
#y 0ust e1chan"e one for the other "iven.
$ hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss'
There never was a bar"ain better driven.
2is heart in me eeps me and him in one;
My heart in him his thou"hts and senses "uides'
2e loves my heart, for once it was his own;
$ cherish his because in me it bides.
2is heart his wound received from my si"ht;
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;
%or as from me on him his hurt did li"ht,
!o still, methou"ht, in me his hurt did smart'
#oth e3ual hurt, in this chan"e sou"ht our bliss,
My true love hath my heart and $ have his.
On His Blin$ness
John %ilton
When $ consider how my li"ht is spent
Ere half my days in this dar world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
-od"ed with me useless, thou"h my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maer, and present
My true account, lest 2e returnin" chide,
)(oth 4od e1act day labor, li"ht denied5)
$ fondly as. #ut .atience to prevent
That murmur soon replies, )4od doth not need
Either man)s wor or his own "ifts. Who best
#ear his mild yoe, they serve him best. 2is state
$s in"ly' thousands at his biddin" speed,
And post o)er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.)
mcpapango_englit 2
The Nymph! "ep#y to the Shepher$
Sir !alter Raleigh
$% all the world and love were youn",
And truth in every shepherd)s ton"ue,
These pretty pleasures mi"ht me move
To live with thee and be thy love.
Time drives the flocs from field to fold,
When rivers ra"e and rocs "row cold;
And .hilomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.
The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reconin" yields'
A honey ton"ue, a heart of "all,
$s fancy)s sprin", but sorrow)s fall.
The "owns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy irtle, and thy posies
!oon brea, soon wither, soon for"otten,6
$n folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.
#ut could youth last and love still breed,
2ad 0oys no date nor a"e no need,
Then these deli"hts my mind mi"ht move
To live with thee and be thy love.
!ource' 2annah, *., Ed. The .oems of !ir Walter ,alei"h.
-ondon' 4eor"e #ell and !ons, 7897. 77&7:.
Easter !ings
George Her&ert
-O,(, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Thou"h foolishly he lost the same,
(ecayin" more and more,
Till he became
Most poor '
With thee
O let me rise
As lars, harmoniously,
And sin" this day thy victories '
Then shall the fall further the fli"ht in me.

My tender a"e in sorrow did be"inne '
And still with sicnesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sinne,
That $ became
Most thinne.
With thee
-et me combine,
And feel this day thy victorie,
%or, if $ imp my win" on thine,
TO HIS CO( %ISTRESS
"ndrew arvell
2ad we but world enou"h, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and thin which way
To wal, and pass our lon" love)s day;
Thou by the $ndian 4an"es) side
!houldst rubies find; $ by the tide
Of 2umber would complain. $ would
-ove you ten years before the %lood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the *ews.
My ve"etable love should "row
;aster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should "o to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead "a<e;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
#ut thirty thousand to the rest;
An a"e at least to every part,
And the last a"e should show your heart.
%or, lady, you deserve this state,
+or would $ love at lower rate.
#ut at my bac $ always hear
Time)s win"ed chariot hurryin" near;
And yonder all before us lie
(eserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
+or, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoin" son"; then worms shall try
That lon" preserv)d vir"inity,
And your 3uaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The "rave)s a fine and private place,
#ut none $ thin do there embrace.
+ow therefore, while the youthful hue
!its on thy sin lie mornin" dew,
And while thy willin" soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
+ow let us sport us while we may;
And now, lie am)rous birds of prey,
,ather at once our time devour,
Than lan"uish in his slow&chapp)d power.
-et us roll all our stren"th, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rou"h strife
Thorou"h the iron "ates of life.
Thus, thou"h we cannot mae our sun
!tand still, yet we will mae him run.
To Lu%a!ta& On 'o(n) to the *ar!
"(%har$ Love#a%e
T2-- me not! Sweet! I am unkind!
That from the nunnery
/f thy chaste breast and 0uiet mind
To war and arms I fly&

True! a new mistress now I chase!
The first foe in the field*
"nd with a stronger faith embrace
" sword! a horse! a shield&

+et this inconstancy is such
"s thou too shalt adore*
I could not love thee! (ear! so much!
-oved I not ,onour more&
mcpapango_englit 3
To the +(r)(n! to Ma,e Mu%h o- T(me
"o.ert Herr(%,
4ather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a&flyin"'
And this same flower that smiles to&day
To&morrow will be dyin". The "lorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The hi"her he)s a&"ettin",
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he)s to settin". That a"e is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
#ut bein" spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may "o marry'
%or havin" lost but once your prime
=ou may for ever tarry.
The Constant Lo)er
Sir 6ohn Suckling
Out upon it, $ have lov)d
Three whole days to"ether;
And am lie to love three more,
$f it prove fair weather.
Time shall molt away his win"s
Ere he shall discover
$n such whole wide world a"ain
!uch a constant lover.
#ut the spite on)t is, no praise
$s due at all to me'
-ove with me had made no stays
2ad it any been but she.
2ad it any been but she
And that very face,
There had been at least ere this
A do<en do<en in her place.

She !al*s In Bea+t"
George Lor$ B"ron
!he wals in beauty, lie the ni"ht
Of cloudless climes and starry sies;
And all that)s best of dar and bri"ht
Meet in her aspect and her eyes'
Thus mellowed to that tender li"ht
Which heaven to "audy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
2ad half impaired the nameless "race
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly li"htens o)er her face;
Where thou"hts serenely sweet e1press
2ow pure, how dear their dwellin" place.
And on that chee, and o)er that brow,
!o soft, so calm, yet elo3uent,
The smiles that win, the tints that "low,
#ut tell of days in "oodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent/
A Poison Tree
!illia Bla*e
'rom Songs of 2#perience
$ was an"ry with my friend'
$ told my wrath, my wrath did end.
$ was an"ry with my foe'
$ told it not, my wrath did "row.
And $ watered it in fears
+i"ht and mornin" with my tears,
And $ sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it "rew both day and ni"ht,
Till it bore an apple bri"ht,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he new that it was mine, &
And into my "arden stole
When the ni"ht had veiled the pole;
$n the mornin", "lad, $ see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
-rom To see a !orl$,
!illia Bla*e
To see a World in a 4rain of !and
And a 2eaven in a Wild %lower,
2old $nfinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
The Si-* Rose
!illia Bla*e
'rom Songs of 2#perience
O rose, thou art sic/
The invisible worm,
That flies in the ni"ht,
$n the howlin" storm,
2as found out thy bed
Of crimson 0oy,
And his dar secret love
(oes thy life destroy.
mcpapango_englit 4
The Tiger
!illia Bla*e
'rom Songs of 2#perience
Ti"er, ti"er, burnin" bri"ht
$n the forests of the ni"ht,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry5
$n what distant deeps or sies
#urnt the fire of thine eyes5
On what win"s dare he aspire5
What the hand dare sei<e the fire5
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart5
And, when thy heart be"an to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet5
What the hammer5 what the chain5
$n what furnace was thy brain5
What the anvil5 what dread "rasp
(are its deadly terrors clasp5
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
(id 2e smile 2is wor to see5
(id 2e who made the lamb mae thee5
Ti"er, ti"er, burnin" bri"ht
$n the forests of the ni"ht,
What immortal hand or eye
(are frame thy fearful symmetry5
Little La&
-ittle lamb, who made thee5
(ost thou now who made thee,
4ave thee life, and bid thee feed
#y the stream and o)er the mead;
4ave thee clothin" of deli"ht,
!oftest clothin", woolly, bri"ht;
4ave thee such a tender voice,
Main" all the vales re0oice5
-ittle lamb, who made thee5
(ost thou now who made thee5
-ittle lamb, $)ll tell thee;
-ittle lamb, $)ll tell thee'
2e is called by thy name,
%or 2e calls 2imself a -amb.
2e is mee, and 2e is mild,
2e became a little child.
$ a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by 2is name.
-ittle lamb, 4od bless thee/
-ittle lamb, 4od bless thee/
.I !an$ere$ Lonel" as a Clo+$.
William Wordsworth

$ wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on hi"h o)er vales and hills,
When all at once $ saw a crowd,
A host, of "olden daffodils;
#eside the lae, beneath the trees,
%lutterin" and dancin" in the bree<e.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinle on the mily way,
They stretched in never&endin" line
Alon" the mar"in of a bay'
Ten thousand saw $ at a "lance,
Tossin" their heads in spri"htly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out&did the sparlin" waves in "lee'
A poet could not but be "ay,
$n such a 0ocund company'
$ "a<ed&&&and "a<ed&&&but little thou"ht
What wealth the show to me had brou"ht'
%or oft, when on my couch $ lie
$n vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
mcpapango_englit 5
Ho/ Do I Lo)e Thee0
E#(/a.eth 0arrett 0ro1n(n)
2ow do $ love thee5 -et me count the ways.
$ love thee to the depth and breadth and hei"ht
My soul can reach, when feelin" out of si"ht
%or the ends of #ein" and ideal 4race.
$ love thee to the level of every day)s
Most 3uiet need, by sun and candleli"ht.
$ love thee freely, as men strive for ,i"ht;
$ love thee purely, as they turn from .raise.
$ love with a passion put to use
$n my old "riefs, and with my childhood)s faith.
$ love thee with a love $ seemed to lose
With my lost saints, $ love thee with the breath,
!miles, tears, of all my life/ and, if 4od choose,
$ shall but love thee better after death.
La 0e##e 2ame San! Mer%
3ohn 4eat!
Oh what can ail thee, ni"ht&at&arms,
Alone and palely loiterin"5
The sed"e has withered from the lae,
And no birds sin".
Oh what can ail thee, ni"ht&at&arms,
!o ha""ard and so woe&be"one5
The s3uirrel)s "ranary is full,
And the harvest)s done.
$ see a lily on thy brow,
With an"uish moist and fever&dew,
And on thy chees a fadin" rose
%ast withereth too.
$ met a lady in the meads,
%ull beautiful & a faery)s child,
2er hair was lon", her foot was li"ht,
And her eyes were wild.
$ made a "arland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fra"rant <one;
!he looed at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
$ set her on my pacin" steed,
And nothin" else saw all day lon",
%or sidelon" would she bend, and sin"
A faery)s son".
!he found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna&dew,
And sure in lan"ua"e stran"e she said &
)$ love thee true).
!he too me to her elfin "rot,
And there she wept and si"hed full sore,
And there $ shut her wild wild eyes
With isses four.
And there she lulled me asleep
And there $ dreamed & Ah/ woe betide/ &
The latest dream $ ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
$ saw pale in"s and princes too,
.ale warriors, death&pale were they all;
They cried & )-a #elle (ame sans Merci
2ath thee in thrall/)
$ saw their starved lips in the "loam,
With horrid warnin" "aped wide,
And $ awoe and found me here,
On the cold hill)s side.
And this is why $ so0ourn here
Alone and palely loiterin",
Thou"h the sed"e is withered from the lae,
And no birds sin".

Do Not Go Gentle into that Goo$ Night
(ylan Thomas
(o not "o "entle into that "ood ni"ht,
Old a"e should burn and rave at close of day;
,a"e, ra"e a"ainst the dyin" of the li"ht.
Thou"h wise men at their end now dar is ri"ht,
#ecause their words had fored no li"htnin" they
(o not "o "entle into that "ood ni"ht.
4ood men, the last wave by, cryin" how bri"ht
Their frail deeds mi"ht have danced in a "reen bay,
,a"e, ra"e a"ainst the dyin" of the li"ht.
Wild men who cau"ht and san" the sun in fli"ht,
And learn, too late, they "rieved it on its way,
(o not "o "entle into that "ood ni"ht.
4rave men, near death, who see with blindin" si"ht
#lind eyes could bla<e lie meteors and be "ay,
,a"e, ra"e a"ainst the dyin" of the li"ht.
And you, my father, there on the sad hei"ht,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, $ pray.
(o not "o "entle into that "ood ni"ht.
,a"e, ra"e a"ainst the dyin" of the li"ht.

mcpapango_englit 6
(o %ot 1o 1entle into that 1ood %ight is a )illanelle1 A ;illanelle is a poetic form which entered En"lish&lan"ua"e
poetry in the 78>>s from the imitation of %rench models.
?7@
A villanelle has only two rhyme sounds. The first and third
lines of the first stan<a are rhymin" refrains that alternate as the third line in each successive stan<a and form a
couplet at the close. A villanelle is nineteen lines lon", consistin" of five tercets and one concludin" 3uatrain.
To a %o+se
,obert #urns
!mall, slee, cowerin", timorous beast,
O, what a panic is in your breast/
=ou need not start away so hasty
With hurryin" scamper/
$ would be loath to run and chase you,
With murderin" plou"h&staff.
$)m truly sorry man)s dominion
2as broen +ature)s social union,
And 0ustifies that ill opinion
Which maes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth born companion
And fellow mortal/
$ doubt not, sometimes, but you may steal;
What then5 .oor beast, you must live/
An odd ear in twenty&four sheaves
$s a small re3uest;
$ will "et a blessin" with what is left,
And never miss it.
=our small house, too, in ruin/
$t)s feeble walls the winds are scatterin"/
And nothin" now, to build a new one,
Of coarse "rass "reen/
And blea (ecember)s winds comin",
#oth bitter and een/
=ou saw the fields laid bare and wasted,
And weary winter comin" fast,
And co<y here, beneath the blast,
=ou thou"ht to dwell,
Till crash/ the cruel plou"h past
Out throu"h your cell.
That small bit heap of leaves and stubble,
2as cost you many a weary nibble/
+ow you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holdin",
To endure the winter)s sleety dribble,
And hoar&frost cold.
#ut Mouse, you are not alone,
$n provin" foresi"ht may be vain'
The best laid schemes of mice and men
4o often asew,
And leaves us nothin" but "rief and pain,
%or promised 0oy/
!till you are blest, compared with me/
The present only touches you'
#ut oh/ $ bacward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary/
And forward, thou"h $ cannot see,
$ "uess and fear/
Ro&ert B+rns was a poet, but that was not what
earned him his livin". As with most artists of his
time he had to have some means of earnin" his
eep. $n #urns) case he earned most of his
money, sparse thou"h this was, from farmin".
This is why he is also nown as the A.lou"hman
#ardA. $t was while he was plou"hin" one of his
fields that he disturbed a mouse)s nest. $t was his
thou"hts on what he had done that led to his
poem, ATo A MouseA, which contains one of his
most often 3uoted lines from the poem.
Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred5
(oes it dry up
-ie a raisin in the sun5
Or fester lie a sore&&
And then run5
(oes it stin lie rotten meat5
Or crust and su"ar over&&
lie a syrupy sweet5
Maybe it 0ust sa"s
lie a heavy load.
Or does it e1plode5
Eleanor Rig&"
Lennon2%-Cartne"
Ah, loo at all the lonely people
Ah, loo at all the lonely people
Eleanor ,i"by, pics up the rice
in the church where a weddin" has been
-ives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearin" the face
that she eeps in a 0ar by the door
Who is it for
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from5
All the lonely people
Where do they all belon"5
%ather McBen<ie, writin" the words
of a sermon that no one will hear
+o one comes near
-oo at him worin", darnin" his socs
in the ni"ht when there)s nobody there
What does he care
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from5
All the lonely people
Where do they all belon"5
Ah, loo at all the lonely people
Ah, loo at all the lonely people
Eleanor ,i"by, died in the church
and was buried alon" with her name
+obody came
%ather McBen<ie, wipin" the dirt
from his hands as he wals from the "rave
+o one was saved
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from5
All the lonely people
Where do they all belon"5
Ri-har$ Cor"
E$/in Arlington Ro&inson
Whenever ,ichard Cory went downtown, ?whenever, went' alliteration@
We people on the pavement looed at him; ?pavement' sidewal@
2e was a "entleman from sole to crown, ?crown has a double meanin"
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always 3uietly arrayed
And he was always human when he taled;
#ut still he fluttered pulses when he said,
C4ood&mornin",D and he "littered when he waled.
And he was richEyes, richer than a in"E
And admirably schooled in every "race;
$n fine, we thou"ht that he was everythin"
To mae us wish that we were in his place.
!o on we wored, and waited for the li"ht,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And ,ichard Cory, one calm summer ni"ht,
Went home and put a bullet throu"h his head.
mcpapango_englit 7
A Boo*
Eil" Di-*inson
There is no fri"ate lie a boo
To tae us lands away,
+or any coursers lie a pa"e
Of prancin" poetry.
This traverse may the poorest tae
Without oppress of toll;
2ow fru"al is the chariot
That bears a human soul/
Be-a+se I Co+l$ Not Sto# 3or Death
Eil" Di-*inson
#ecause $ could not stop for (eath,
2e indly stopped for me;
The carria"e held but 0ust ourselves
And $mmortality.
We slowly drove, he new no haste,
And $ had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
%or his civility.
We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the rin";
We passed the fields of "a<in" "rain,
We passed the settin" sun.
Or rather, be passed us;
The dews "rew 3uiverin" and chill,
%or only "ossamer my "own,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before house that seemed
A swellin" of the "round;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
!ince then )tis centuries, and yet each
%eels shorter than the day
$ first surmised the horses) heads
Were toward eternity.

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af
fa
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one
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iness
-ee cummings
A Narro/ Fello/ in the Grass
Eil" Di-*inson
A narrow %ellow in the 4rass
Occasionally rides&&
=ou may have met 2im&&
did you not
2is notice sudden is&&
The 4rass divides as with a Comb&&
A spotted shaft is seen&&
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on&&
2e lies a #o""y Acre
A %loor too cool for Corn&&
=et when a #oy, and #arefoot&&
$ more than once at +oon
2ave passed, $ thou"ht, a Whip lash
Fnbraidin" in the !un
When stoopin" to secure it
$t wrinled, and was "one&&
!everal of +ature)s .eople
$ now, and they now me&&
$ feel for them a transport
Of cordiality&&
#ut never met this %ellow
Attended, or alone
Without a ti"hter breathin"
And Gero at the #one&&H

The Roa$ Not Ta*en
Ro&ert Frost
TWO roads diver"ed in a yellow wood,
And sorry $ could not travel both
And be one traveler, lon" $ stood
And looed down one as far as $ could
To where it bent in the under"rowth;

Then too the other, as 0ust as fair,
And havin" perhaps the better claim
#ecause it was "rassy and wanted wear;
Thou"h as for that, the passin" there
2ad worn them really about the same,

And both that mornin" e3ually lay
$n leaves no step had trodden blac.
Oh, $ mared the first for another day/
=et nowin" how way leads on to way
$ doubted if $ should ever come bac.

$ shall be tellin" this with a si"h
!omewhere a"es and a"es hence'
Two roads diver"ed in a wood, and $,
$ too the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
mcpapango_englit 8
Tonight I Can !rite the Sa$$est Lines
Pa&lo Ner+$a
Toni"ht $ can write the saddest lines
Write for e1ample, )The ni"ht is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.)
The ni"ht wind revolves in the sy and sin"s.
Toni"ht $ can write the saddest lines.
$ loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Throu"h ni"hts lie this one $ held her in my arms.
$ issed her a"ain and a"ain under the endless sy.
!he loved me, sometimes $ loved her too.
2ow could one not have loved her "reat still eyes.
Toni"ht $ can write the saddest lines.
To thin that $ do not have her. To feel that $ have lost her.
To hear immense ni"ht, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul lie dew to a pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not eep her.
The ni"ht is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. $n the distance someone is sin"in". $n the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My si"ht searches for her as thou"h to "o to her.
My heart loos for her, and she is not with me.
The same ni"ht whitenin" the same trees.
We, of that time, are no lon"er the same.
$ no lon"er love her, that)s certain, but how $ loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearin".
Another)s. !he will be another)s. -ie my isses before.
2er voice. 2er bri"ht body. 2er infinite eyes.
$ no lon"er love her, that)s certain, but maybe $ love her.
-ove is short, for"ettin" is so lon".
#ecause throu"h ni"hts lie this one $ held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Thou"h this be the last pain that she maes me suffer
and these the last verses that $ write for her.
& from Twenty -ove .oems and a !on" of (espair
Sto##ing B" !oo$s on a Sno/" E)ening
Ro&ert Frost
Whose woods these are $ thin $ now.
2is house is in the villa"e thou"h;
2e will not see me stoppin" here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must thin it 3ueer
To stop without a farmhouse near
#etween the woods and fro<en lae
The darest evenin" of the year.
2e "ives his harness bells a shae
To as if there is some mistae.
The only other sound)s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flae.
The woods are lovely, dar and deep.
#ut $ have promises to eep,
And miles to "o before $ sleep,
And miles to "o before $ sleep.
.Ho#e. is the thing /ith 3eathers
Eil" Di-*inson
A2opeA is the thin" with feathers6
That perches in the soul6
And sin"s the tune without the words6
And never stops6at all6
And sweetest6in the 4ale6is heard6
And sore must be the storm6
That could abash the little #ird
That ept so many warm6
$)ve heard it in the chillest land6
And on the stran"est !ea6
=et, never, in E1tremity,
$t ased a crumb6of Me.
!hen I Hear$ the Learne$ Astronoer
Walt Whitman
When $ heard the learn)d astronomer,
When the proofs, the fi"ures, were ran"ed in columns before me,
When $ was shown the charts and dia"rams, to add, divide,
and measure them,
When $ sittin" heard the astronomer where he lectured with
much applause in the lecture&room,
2ow soon unaccountable $ became tired and sic,
Till risin" and "lidin" out $ wander)d off by myself,
$n the mystical moist ni"ht&air, and from time to time,
-oo)d up in perfect silence at the stars.
I4% NOBOD(5 !HO ARE (OU0
Eil" Di-*inson

$)m nobody/ Who are you5
Are you nobody, too5
Then there)s a pair of us & don)t tell/
They)d advertise & you now/
2ow dreary to be somebody/
2ow public lie a fro"
To tell one)s name the livelon" day
To an admirin" bo"/
I Shall Not Li)e in Vain
Eil" Di-*inson
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
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