Break, Break, Break

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

1 Break, break, break
2 On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
3 And I would that my tongue could utter
4 The thoughts that arise in me.
5 O well for the fisherman’s boy,
6 That he shouts with his sister at play!
7 O well for the sailor lad,
8 That he sings in his boat on the bay!
9 And the stately ships go on
10 To their haven under the hill;
11 But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
12 And the sound of a voice that is still!
13 Break, break, break,
14 At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
15 But the tender grace of a day that is dead
16 Will never come back to me.

From: When You are Old and Gray

By Tom Lehrer
An awful debility, a lessened utility,
A loss of mobility is a strong possibility.
In all probability I’ll lose my virility,
And you your fertility and desirability.
And this liability of total sterility
Will lead to hostility and sense of futility.
So let’s act with agility while we still have facility,
For we’ll soon reach senility and lose the ability.

Much Madness is Divinest Sense

by Emily Dickinson
Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
‘Tis the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur – you’re straightway dangerous
And handled with a chain.