1@T A Thunderstorm in Town 2 3She wore a new "terra-cotta" dress, 4And we stayed, because of the pelting storm, 5Within the hansom's dry recess, 6Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless 7We sat on, snug and warm. 8 9Then the downpour ceased, to my sharp sad pain 10And the glass that had screened our forms before 11Flew up, and out she sprang to her door: 12I should have kissed her if the rain 13Had lasted a minute more. 14 15@A Thomas Hardy 16# 17They say my verse is sad: no wonder; 18Its narrow measure spans 19Tears of eternity, and sorrow, 20Not mine, but man's. 21 22This is for all ill-treated fellows 23Unborn and unbegot, 24For them to read when they're in trouble 25And I am not. 26 27@A A. E. Housman 28# 29@T On a Day's Stint 30 31And long ere dinner-time I have 32Full eight close pages wrote. 33What, Duty, hast thou now to crave? 34Well done, Sir Walter Scott! 35 36@A Sir Walter Scott 37# 38@T The Choir Boy 39 40And when he sang in choruses 41His voice o'ertopped the rest, 42Which is very inartistic, 43But the public like that best. 44 45@A Anonymous 46# 47@T For Johnny 48 49Do not despair 50For Johnny-head-air; 51He sleeps as sound 52As Johnny underground. 53 54Fetch out no shroud 55For Johnny-in-the-cloud; 56And keep your tears 57For him in after years. 58 59Better by far 60For Johnny-the-bright-star, 61To keep your head, 62And see his children fed. 63 64@A John Pudney 65# 66@T Cock-Crow 67 68Out of the wood of thoughts that grows by night 69To be cut down by the sharp axe of light, - 70Out of the night, two cocks together crow, 71Cleaving the darkness with a silver blow: 72And bright before my eyes twin trumpeters stand, 73Heralds of splendour, one at either hand, 74Each facing each as in a coat of arms: 75The milkers lace their boots up at the farms. 76 77@A Edward Thomas 78# 79@T After Long Silence 80 81Speech after long silence; it is right, 82All other lovers being estranged or dead, 83Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade, 84The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night, 85That we descant and yet again descant 86Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song: 87Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young 88We loved each other and were ignorant. 89 90@A W. B. Yeats 91# 92@T Clouds 93 94Down the blue night the unending columns press 95In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow, 96Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow 97Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness. 98Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless, 99And turn with profound gesture vague and slow, 100As who would pray good for the world, but know 101Their benediction empty as they bless. 102 103They say that the Dead die not, but remain 104Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth. 105I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these, 106In wise majestic melancholy train, 107And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas, 108And men coming and going on the earth. 109 110@A Rupert Brooke 111# 112@T If I should ever by Chance 113 114If I should ever by chance grow rich 115I'll buy Codham, Cockridden, and Childerditch, 116Roses, Pyrgo, and Lapwater, 117And let them all to my elder daughter. 118The rent I shall ask of her will be only 119Each year's violets, white and lonely, 120The first primroses and orchises - 121She must find them before I do, that is. 122But if she finds a blossom on furze 123Without rent they shall all for ever be hers, 124Codham, Cockridden, and Childerditch, 125Roses, Pyrgo, and Lapwater, - 126I shall give them all to my elder daughter. 127 128@A Edward Thomas 129# 130@T Adlestrop 131 132Yes, I remember Adlestrop - 133The name, because one afternoon 134Of heat the express-train drew up there 135Unwontedly. It was late June. 136 137The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. 138No one left and no one came 139On the bare platform. What I saw 140Was Adlestrop - only the name 141 142And willows, willow-herb, and grass, 143And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, 144No whit less still and lonely fair 145Than the high cloudlets in the sky. 146 147And for that minute a blackbird sang 148Close by, and round him, mistier, 149Farther and farther, all the birds 150Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire. 151 152@A Edward Thomas 153# 154@T Tall Nettles 155 156Tall nettles cover up, as they have done 157These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough 158Long worn out, and the roller made of stone: 159Only the elm butt tops the nettles now. 160 161This corner of the farmyard I like most: 162As well as any bloom upon a flower 163I like the dust on the nettles, never lost 164Except to prove the sweetness of a shower. 165 166@A Edward Thomas 167# 168@T The Cherry Trees 169 170The cherry trees bend over and are shedding 171On the old road where all that passed are dead, 172Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding 173This early May morn when there is none to wed. 174 175@A Edward Thomas 176# 177@T What will they do? 178 179What will they do when I am gone? It is plain 180That they will do without me as the rain 181Can do without the flowers and the grass 182That profit by it and must perish without. 183I have but seen them in the loud street pass; 184And I was naught to them. I turned about 185To see them disappearing carelessly. 186But what if I in them as they in me 187Nourished what has great value and no price? 188Almost I thought that rain thirsts for a draught 189Which only in the blossom's chalice lies, 190Until that one turned back and lightly laughed. 191 192@A Edward Thomas 193# 194@T The Lane 195 196Some day, I think, there will be people enough 197In Froxfield to pick all the blackberries 198Out of the hedges of Green Lane, the straight 199Broad lane where now September hides herself 200In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse. 201Today, where yesterday a hundred sheep 202Were nibbling, halcyon bells shake to the sway 203Of waters that no vessel ever sailed... 204It is a kind of spring: the chaffinch tries 205His song. For heat it is like summer too. 206This might be winter's quiet. While the glint 207Of hollies dark in the swollen hedges lasts - 208One mile - and those bells ring, little I know 209Or heed if time be still the same, until 210The lane ends and once more all is the same. 211 212@A Edward Thomas 213# 214@T In Memoriam (Easter, 1915) 215 216The flowers left thick at nightfall in the wood 217This Eastertide call into mind the men, 218Now far from home, who, with their sweethearts, should 219Have gathered them and will do never again. 220 221@A Edward Thomas 222# 223@T Failure 224 225Because God put His adamantine fate 226Between my sullen heart and its desire, 227I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, 228Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire. 229Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy, 230But Love was as a flame about my feet; 231Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat 232Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry - 233 234All the great courts were quiet in the sun, 235And full of vacant echoes: moss had grown 236Over the glassy pavement, and begun 237To creep within the dusty council-halls. 238An idle wind blew round an empty throne 239And stirred the heavy curtains on the walls. 240 241@A Rupert Brooke 242# 243@T Sonnet 244 245I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true. 246Such long swift tides stir not a land-locked sea. 247On gods or fools the high risk falls - on you - 248The clean clear bitter-sweet that's not for me. 249Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist. 250Love is flung Lucifer-like from Heaven to Hell. 251But - there are wanderers in the middle mist, 252Who cry for shadows, clutch, and cannot tell 253Whether they love at all, or, loving, whom: 254An old song's lady, a fool in fancy dress, 255Or phantoms, or their own face on the gloom; 256For love of Love, or from heart's loneliness. 257Pleasure's not theirs, nor pain. They doubt, and sigh, 258And do not love at all. Of these am I. 259 260@A Rupert Brooke 261# 262@T The Hill 263 264Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill, 265Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass. 266You said, `Through glory and ecstasy we pass; 267Wind, sun, and earth remain, the birds sing still, 268When we are old, are old...' `And when we die 269All's over that is ours; and life burns on 270Through other lovers, other lips,' said I, 271`Heart of my heart, our heaven is now, is won!' 272 273`We are Earth's best, that learnt her lesson here. 274Life is our cry. We have kept the faith!' we said; 275`We shall go down with unreluctant tread 276Rose-crowned into the darkness!' ...Proud we were, 277And laughed, that had such brave true things to say, 278- And then you suddenly cried, and turned away. 279 280@A Rupert Brooke 281# 282@T Song 283 284All suddenly the wind comes soft, 285And Spring is here again; 286And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green, 287And my heart with buds of pain. 288 289My heart all Winter lay so numb, 290The earth so dead and frore, 291That I never thought the Spring would come, 292Or my heart wake any more. 293 294But Winter's broken and earth has woken. 295And the small birds cry again; 296And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds, 297And my heart puts forth its pain. 298 299@A Rupert Brooke 300# 301@T The Way that Lovers Use 302 303The way that lovers use is this: 304They bow, catch hands, with never a word, 305And their lips meet, and they do kiss, 306- So I have heard. 307 308They queerly find some healing so, 309And strange attainment in the touch; 310There is a secret lovers know, 311- I have read as much. 312 313And theirs is no longer joy nor smart, 314Changing or ending, night or day; 315But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart, 316- So lovers say. 317 318@A Rupert Brooke 319# 320@T Song 321 322The way of love was thus. 323He was born one winter's morn 324With hands delicious, 325And it was well with us. 326 327Love came our quiet way, 328Lit pride in us, and died in us, 329All in a winter's day. 330There is no more to say. 331 332@A Rupert Brooke 333# 334@T Sonnet Reversed 335 336Hand trembling towards hand; the amazing lights 337Of heart and eye. They stood on supreme heights. 338 339Ah, the delirious weeks of honeymoon! 340Soon they returned, and after strange adventures, 341Settled at Balham by the end of June. 342Their money was in Can. Pasc. B. Debentures, 343And in Antofagastas. Still he went 344Cityward daily; still she did abide 345At home. And both were really quite content 346With work and social pleasures. Then they died. 347They left three children (besides George, who drank): 348The eldest Jane, who married Mr Bell, 349William, the head-clerk in the County Bank, 350And Henry, a stock-broker, doing well. 351 352@A Rupert Brooke 353# 354@T A White Rose 355 356The red rose whispers of passion, 357And the white rose breathes of love; 358O, the red rose is a falcon, 359And the white rose is a dove. 360 361But I send you a cream-white rosebud 362With a flush on its petal tips; 363For the love that is purest and sweetest 364Has a kiss of desire on the lips. 365 366@A John Boyle O'Reilly 367# 368@T Urceus Exit 369 370I intended an Ode, 371And it turn'd to a Sonnet. 372It began 'a la mode', 373I intended an Ode; 374But Rose cross'd the road 375In her latest new bonnet; 376I intended an Ode; 377And it turn'd to a Sonnet. 378 379@A Austin Dobson 380# 381@T Pippa's Song 382 383The year's at the spring, 384And day's at the morn; 385Morning's at seven; 386The hill-side's dew-pearl'd; 387The lark's on the wing; 388The snail's on the thorn; 389God's in His heaven - 390All's right with the world! 391 392@A Robert Browning 393# 394@T Song 395 396She is not fair to outward view 397As many maidens be, 398Her loveliness I never knew 399Until she smiled on me; 400O, then I saw her eye was bright, 401A well of love, a spring of light! 402 403But now her looks are coy and cold, 404To mine they ne'er reply, 405And yet I cease not to behold 406The love-light in her eye: 407Her very frowns are fairer far 408Than smiles of other maidens are. 409 410@A Hartley Coleridge 411# 412@T Rondeau 413 414Jenny kiss'd me when we met, 415Jumping from the chair she sat in; 416Time, you thief, who love to get 417Sweets into your list, put that in! 418Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, 419Say that health and wealth have miss'd me, 420Say I'm growing old, but add, 421Jenny kiss'd me. 422 423@A J. H. Leigh Hunt 424# 425@T A Drinking Song 426 427Bacchus must now his power resign - 428I am the only God of Wine! 429It is not fit the wretch should be 430In competition set with me, 431Who can drink ten times more than he. 432 433Make a new world, ye powers divine! 434Stock'd with nothing else but Wine: 435Let Wine its only product be, 436Let Wine be earth, and air, and sea - 437And let that Wine be all for me! 438 439@A Henry Carey 440# 441I never had a piece of toast 442Particularly long and wide, 443But fell upon the sanded floor 444And always on the buttered side. 445 446@A James Payn 447# 448@T Summer Evening 449 450The frog, half fearful, jumps across the path, 451And little mouse that leaves its hole at eve 452Nimbles with timid dread beneath the swath; 453My rustling steps awhile their joys deceive, 454Till past - and then the cricket sings more strong, 455And grasshoppers in merry mood still wear 456The short night weary with their fretting song. 457Up from behind the mole-hill jumps the hare, 458Cheat of his chosen bed, and from the bank 459The yellowhammer flutters in short fears 460From off its nest hid in the grasses rank, 461And drops again when no more noise it hears. 462Thus nature's human link and endless thrall, 463Proud man, still seems the enemy of all. 464 465@A John Clare 466# 467@T Diamond Cut Diamond 468 469Two cats 470One up a tree 471One under the tree 472The cat up a tree is he 473The cat under the tree is she 474The tree is witch elm, just incidentally. 475He takes no notice of she, she takes no notice of he. 476He stares at the woolly clouds passing, she stares at the tree. 477There's been a lot written about cats, by Old Possum, Yeats and 478Company 479But not Alfred de Musset or Lord Tennyson or Poe or anybody 480Wrote about one cat under, and one cat up, a tree. 481God knows why this should be left for me 482Except I like cats as cats be 483Especially one cat up 484And one cat under 485A witch elm 486Tree. 487 488@A Ewart Milne 489# 490@T Time and Love 491 492When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced 493The rich proud cost of out-worn buried age; 494When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed, 495And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; 496 497When I have seen the hungry ocean gain 498Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, 499And the firm soil win of the watery main, 500Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; 501 502When I have seen such interchange of state, 503Or state itself confounded to decay, 504Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate - 505That Time will come and take my Love away: 506 507- This thought is as a death, which cannot choose 508But weep to have that which it fears to lose. 509 510@A William Shakespeare 511# 512Under the greenwood tree 513Who loves to lie with me, 514And turn his merry note 515Unto the sweet bird's throat - 516Come hither, come hither, come hither ! 517Here shall he see 518No enemy 519But winter and rough weather. 520 521Who doth ambition shun 522And loves to live i' the sun, 523Seeking the food he eats 524And pleased with what he gets - 525Come hither, come hither, come hither! 526Here shall he see 527No enemy 528But winter and rough weather. 529 530@A William Shakespeare 531# 532@T Absence 533 534Being your slave, what should I do but tend 535Upon the hours and times of your desire? 536I have no precious time at all to spend 537Nor services to do, till you require: 538 539Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour 540Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, 541Nor think the bitterness of absence sour 542When you have bid your servant once adieu: 543 544Nor dare I question with my jealous thought 545Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, 546But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought 547Save, where you are, how happy you make those;- 548 549So true a fool is love, that in your will, 550Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. 551 552@A William Shakespeare 553# 554To me, fair Friend, you never can be old, 555For as you were when first your eye I eyed 556Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold 557Have from the forests shook three summers' pride; 558Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd 559In process of the seasons have I seen, 560Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, 561Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. 562 563Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, 564Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; 565So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, 566Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived: 567 568For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred,- 569Ere you were born, was beauty's summer dead. 570 571@A William Shakespeare 572# 573@T To His Love 574 575Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? 576Thou art more lovely and more temperate: 577Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, 578And summer's lease hath all too short a date: 579 580Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, 581And often is his gold complexion dimm'd: 582And every fair from fair sometime declines, 583By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd. 584 585But thy eternal summer shall not fade 586Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; 587Nor shall death brag thou wanderest in his shade, 588When in eternal lines to time thou growest: 589 590So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, 591So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. 592 593@A William Shakespeare 594# 595@T Carpe Diem 596 597O Mistress, where are you roaming? 598O stay and hear! your true-love's coming 599That can sing both high and low; 600Trip no further, pretty sweeting, 601Journey's end in lovers' meeting - 602Every wise man's son doth know. 603 604What is love? 'tis not hereafter; 605Present mirth hath present laughter; 606What's to come is still unsure; 607In delay there lies no plenty,- 608Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty, 609Youth's a stuff will not endure. 610 611@A William Shakespeare 612# 613@T A Sea Dirge 614 615Full fathom five thy father lies: 616Of his bones are coral made; 617Those are peals that were his eyes; 618Nothing of him that doth fade 619But doth suffer a sea-change 620Into something rich and strange. 621Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell; 622Hark! now I hear them,- 623Ding, dong, bell. 624 625@A William Shakespeare 626# 627@T On the Tombs in Westminster Abbey 628 629Mortality, behold and fear, 630What a change of flesh is here! 631Think how many royal bones 632Sleep within these heaps of stones; 633Here they lie, had realms and lands, 634Who now want strength to stir their hands, 635Where from their pulpits seal'd with dust 636They preach, `In greatness is no trust.' 637Here's an acre sown indeed 638With the richest royallest seed 639That the earth did e'er suck in 640Since the first man died for sin: 641Here the bones of birth have cried 642`Though gods they were, as men they died!' 643Here are sands, ignoble things, 644Dropt from the ruin'd sides of kings: 645Here's a world of pomp and state 646Buried in dust, once dead by fate. 647 648@A F. Beaumont 649# 650@T The Terror of Death 651 652When I have fears that I may cease to be 653Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, 654Before high-piled books, in charact'ry 655Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain; 656 657When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, 658Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, 659And think that I may never live to trace 660Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; 661 662And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! 663That I shall never look upon thee more, 664Never have relish in the fairy power 665Of unreflecting love - then on the shore 666 667Of the wide world I stand alone, and think 668Till love and fame to nothingness do sink. 669 670@A J. Keats 671# 672@T Young and Old 673 674When all the world is young, lad, 675And all the trees are green; 676And every goose a swan, lad, 677And every lass a queen; 678Then hey for boot and horse, lad, 679And round the world away; 680Young blood must have its course, lad, 681And every dog his day. 682 683When all the world is old, lad, 684And all the trees are brown; 685And all the sport is stale, lad, 686And all the wheels run down; 687Creep home, and take your place there, 688The spent and maimed among: 689God grant you find one face there, 690You loved when all was young. 691 692@A C. Kingsley 693# 694@T Pied Beauty 695 696Glory be to God for dappled things- 697For skies of couple-colour as a brindled cow; 698For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; 699Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings; 700Landscape plotted and pieced - fold, fallow, and plough; 701And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim. 702 703All things counter, original, spare, strange; 704Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) 705With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; 706He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: 707Praise Him. 708 709@A Gerard Manley-Hopkins 710# 711@T The Lake Isle of Innisfree 712 713I will arise, and go to Innisfree, 714And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; 715Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the hiney bee, 716And live alone in the bee-loud glade. 717 718And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, 719Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; 720There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow, 721And evening full of the linnet's wings. 722 723I will arise and go now, for always night and day 724I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shores; 725While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, 726I hear it in the deep heart's core. 727 728@A W.B. Yeats 729# 730@T The Soldier 731 732If I should die, think only this of me: 733That there's some corner of a foreign field 734That is for ever England. There shall be 735In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; 736A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, 737Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, 738Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. 739 740And think, this heart, all evil shed away, 741A pulse in the eternal mind, no less 742Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; 743Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; 744And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, 745In hearts at peace, under an English heaven. 746 747@A Rupert Brooke 748# 749@T Towers 750 751Protected from the gales, we, 752By the line of trees along the bank 753From storms that batter Fife 754And life here through the changing seasons - 755Unchanging, a lonely beauty, 756No reason to look to the rush 757Beyond the rustle of the bushes. 758But through the curtain of our trees, 759The distant towers like castle turrets 760Gleam by day and shine by night, 761Holding, choking 762Invisible souls within the shearing concrete height. 763 764@A Julian Smart 765# 766@T Break of Day 767 768Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be? 769O wilt thou therefore rise from me? 770Why should we rise, because 'tis light? 771Did we lie down, because 'twas night? 772Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither, 773Should in despite of light keep us together. 774 775Light hath no tongue, but is all eye; 776If it could speak as well as spy, 777This were the worst, that it could say, 778That being well, I fain would stay, 779And that I loved my heart and honour so, 780That I would not from him, that had them, go. 781 782Must business thee from hence remove? 783Oh, that's the worst disease of love, 784The poor, the foul, the false, love can 785Admit. but not the busied man. 786He which hath business, and makes love, doth do 787Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo. 788 789@A John Donne 790# 791@T The Computation 792 793For the first twenty years, since yesterday, 794I scarce believed, thou could'st be gone away, 795For forty more, I fed on favours past, 796And forty on hopes, that thou would'st, they might last. 797Tears drowned one hundred, and sighs blew out two, 798A thousand, I did neither think, nor do, 799Or not divide, all being one thought of you; 800Or in a thousand more, forget that too. 801Yet call not this long life; but think that I 802Am, by being dead, immortal; can ghosts die? 803 804@A John Dunne 805# 806@T A Red, Red Rose 807 808O, my love's like a red, red rose, 809That's newly sprung in June. 810O, my love's like the melodie, 811That's sweetly play'd in tune. 812 813As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 814So deep in love am I, 815And I will love thee still, my Dear, 816Till a' the seas gang dry. 817 818Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear, 819And the rocks melt wi' the sun! 820O, I will love thee still, my Dear, 821While the sands o' life shall run. 822 823And fare thee weel, my only Love, 824And fare thee weel a while! 825And I will come again, my Love, 826Tho' it were ten thousand mile! 827 828@A Robert Burns 829# 830@T On Charles II 831 832Here lies our sovereign Lord the King, 833Whose word no man relies on, 834Who never said a foolish thing 835Nor ever did a wise one. 836 837@A Earl of Rochester 838# 839@T The Four Georges 840 841George the First was always reckoned 842Vile - but viler George the Second; 843And what mortal ever heard 844Any good of George the Third? 845When from earth the Fourth descended, 846God be praised, the Georges ended! 847 848@A W.S. Landor 849# 850@T Frederick, Prince of Wales 851 852Here lies Fred, 853Who was alive, and is dead, 854Had it been his father, 855I had much rather. 856Had it been his brother, 857Still better than another. 858Had it been his sister, 859No one would have missed her. 860Had it been the whole generation, 861Still better for the nation. 862But since 'tis only Fred, 863Who was alive, and is dead, 864There's no more to be said. 865 866@A W.M. Thackeray 867# 868@T On an Old Woman 869 870Mycilla dyes her locks, 'tis said, 871But 'tis a foul aspersion; 872She buys them black, they therefore need 873No subsequent immersion. 874 875@A W. Cowper 876# 877@T An Epitaph on Sir John Vanbrugh (Architect) 878 879Under this stone, reader, survey 880Dead Sir John Vanbrugh's house of clay. 881Lie heavy on him, earth! for he 882Laid many heavy loads on thee. 883 884@A A. Evans 885# 886@T True Joy in Possession 887 888To have a thing is little, 889If you're not allowed to show it, 890And to know a thing is nothing 891Unless others know you know it. 892 893@A Lord Neaves 894# 895@T To His Mistress Going To Bed 896 897Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy, 898Until I labour, I in labour lie. 899The foe oft-times having the foe in sight, 900Is tired with standing though he never fight. 901Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glistering, 902But a far fairer world encompassing. 903Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear, 904That th'eyes of busy fools may be stopt there. 905Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime 906Tells me from you, that now it is bed time. 907Off with that happy busk, which I envy, 908That still can be, and still can stand so nigh. 909Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals, 910As when from flowry meads the hill's shadow steals. 911@P 912Off with that wiry coronet and show 913The hairy diadem which on you doth grow: 914Now off with those shoes, and then safely tread 915In this love's hallowed temple, this soft bed. 916In such white robes, heaven's angels used to be 917Received by men; thou angel bring'st with thee 918A heaven like Mahomet's Paradise; and though 919Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know, 920By this these angels from an evil sprite, 921Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright. 922 923Licence my roving hands, and let them go, 924Before, behind, between, above, below. 925O my America! my new-found-land, 926My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned, 927My mine of precious stones, My empery, 928How blest am I in this discovering thee! 929To enter in these bonds, is to be free; 930Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be. 931@P 932Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee, 933As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be, 934To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use 935Are like Atlanta's balls, cast in men's views, 936That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem, 937His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them. 938Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made 939For lay-men, are all women this arrayed; 940Themselves are mystic books, which only we 941(Whom their imputed grace will dignify) 942Must see revealed. Then since that I may know, 943As liberally, as to a midwife, show 944Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence, 945There is no penance due to innocence. 946 947To teach thee, I am naked first; why then 948What needst thou have more covering than a man. 949 950@A John Donne 951# 952@T Cheltenham Waters 953 954Here lie I and my four daughters, 955Killed by drinking Cheltenham waters. 956Had we but stuck to Epsom salts, 957We wouldn't have been in these here vaults. 958 959@A Anonymous 960# 961@T Hypocrisy 962 963Hypocrisy will serve as well 964To propagate a church as zeal; 965As persecution and promotion 966Do equally advance devotion: 967So round white stones will serve, they say, 968As well as eggs to make hens lay. 969 970@A Samuel Butler 971# 972@T The Microbe 973 974The Microbe is so very small 975You cannot make him out at all, 976But many sanguine people hope 977To see him through a microscope. 978His jointed tongue that lies beneath 979A hundred curious rows of teeth; 980His seven tufted tails with lots 981Of lovely pink and purple spots, 982On each of which a pattern stands, 983Composed of forty separate bands; 984His eyebrows of a tender green; 985All of these have never yet been seen - 986But Scientists, who ought to know, 987Assures us that they must be so... 988Oh! let us never, never doubt 989What nobody is sure about! 990 991@A Hilaire Belloc 992# 993@T Slug 994 995Slugs, soft upon damp carpets of rich food, 996Make sullen love with bubbles and with sighs, 997Silvery flaccid. They consider lewd 998The use of eyes. 999 1000@A John Pudney 1001# 1002@T The Doctor Prescribes 1003 1004A lady lately, that was fully sped 1005Of all the pleasures of the marriage-bed 1006Ask'd a physician, whether were more fit 1007For Venus' sports, the morning or the night? 1008The good old man made answer, as 'twas meet, 1009The morn more wholesome, but the night more sweet. 1010Nay then, i'faith, quoth she, since we have leisure, 1011We'll to't each morn for health, each night for pleasure. 1012 1013@A Anonymous 1014# 1015@T On Mary Ann 1016 1017Mary Ann has gone to rest, 1018Safe at last on Abraham's breast, 1019Which may be nuts for Mary Ann, 1020But is certainly rough on Abraham. 1021 1022@A Anonymous 1023# 1024@T Misfortunes never come Singly 1025 1026Making toast at the fireside, 1027Nurse fell in the grate and died; 1028And what makes it ten times worse, 1029All the toast was burnt with nurse. 1030 1031@A Harry Graham 1032# 1033@T Tender Heartedness 1034 1035Billy, in one of his nice new sashes, 1036Fell in the fire and was burnt to ashes; 1037Now, although the room grows chilly, 1038I haven't the heart to poke poor Billy. 1039 1040@A Harry Graham 1041# 1042@T Miss Twye 1043 1044Miss Twye was soaping her breasts in her bath 1045When she heard behind her a meaning laugh 1046And to her amazement she discovered 1047A wicked man in the bathroom cupboard. 1048 1049@A Gavin Ewart 1050# 1051@T The Old Loony of Lyme 1052 1053There was an old loony of Lyme, 1054Whose candour was simply sublime; 1055When they asked, 'Are you there?' 1056'Yes,' he said, 'but take care, 1057For I'm never "all there" at a time.' 1058 1059@A Anonymous 1060# 1061@T The Young Lady from Wantage 1062 1063There was a young lady from Wantage 1064Of whom the town clerk took advantage. 1065Said the borough surveyor: 1066'Indeed you must pay `er. 1067You've totally altered her frontage.' 1068 1069@A Anonymous 1070# 1071@T The Modern Hiawatha 1072 1073When he killed the Mudjokivis 1074Of the skin he made him mittens, 1075Made them with the fur side inside, 1076Made them with the skin side outside, 1077He, to get the warm side inside, 1078Put the inside skin side outside; 1079He, to get the cold side outside, 1080Put the warm side fur side inside. 1081That's why he put fur side inside, 1082Why he put the skin side outside, 1083Why he turned them inside outside. 1084 1085@A Anonymous 1086# 1087@T Is it a Month 1088 1089Is it a month since I and you 1090In the starlight of Glen Dubh 1091Stretched beneath a hazel bough 1092Kissed from ear and throat to brow, 1093Since your fingers, neck, and chin 1094Made the bars that fence me in, 1095Till Paradise seemed but a wreck 1096Near your bosom, brow and neck 1097And stars grew wilder, growing wise, 1098In the splendour of your eyes! 1099Since the weasel wandered near 1100Whilst we kissed from ear to ear 1101And the wet and withered leaves 1102Blew about your cap and sleeves, 1103Till the moon sank tired through the ledge 1104Of the wet and windy hedge? 1105And we took the starry lane 1106Back to Dublin town again. 1107 1108@A J. M. Synge 1109@A (1871-1909) 1110# 1111@T The Lark in the Clear Air 1112 1113Dear thoughts are in my mind, 1114And my soul soars enchanted, 1115As I hear the sweet lark sing 1116In the clear air of the day. 1117For a tender beaming smile 1118To my hope has been granted, 1119And tomorrow she shall hear 1120All my fond heart would say. 1121 1122I shall tell her all my love, 1123All my soul's adoration; 1124And I think she will hear me 1125And will not say me nay. 1126It is this that fills my soul 1127With its joyous elation, 1128As I hear the sweet lark sing 1129In the clear air of the day. 1130 1131@A Samuel Ferguson 1132@A (1810-1886) 1133# 1134@T The Self-Unseeing 1135 1136Here is the ancient floor, 1137Footworn and hollowed and thin, 1138Here was the former door 1139Where the dead feet walked in. 1140 1141She sat here in her chair, 1142Smiling into the fire; 1143He who played stood there, 1144Bowing it higher and higher. 1145 1146Childlike, I danced in a dream; 1147Blessings emblazoned that day; 1148Everything glowed with a gleam; 1149Yet we were looking away! 1150 1151@A Thomas Hardy 1152# 1153@T Cean Dubh Deelish (Darling Black Head) 1154 1155Put your head, darling, darling, darling, 1156Your darling black head my heart above; 1157O mouth of honey, with thyme for fragrance, 1158Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love? 1159 1160O many and many a young girl for me is pining, 1161Letting her locks of gold to the cold wind free, 1162For me, the foremost of our gay young fellows; 1163But I'd leave a hundred, pure love, for thee! 1164 1165Put your head, darling, darling, darling, 1166Your darling black head my heart above; 1167O mouth of honey, with thyme for fragrance, 1168Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love? 1169 1170@A Samuel Ferguson 1171@A (1810-1886) 1172# 1173@T From 'The Amores' 1174 1175Ring of mine, made to encircle my pretty mistress's finger, 1176Valuable only in terms of the giver's love, 1177Go, and good welcome! May she receive you with pleasure, 1178Slip you over her knuckle there and then. 1179May you fit her as well as she fits me, rub snugly 1180Around her finger, precisely the right size! 1181Lucky ring to be handled by my mistress! I'm developing 1182A miserable jealousy of my own gift. 1183But suppose I could be the ring, transformed in an instant 1184By some famous magician's art - 1185Then, when I felt like running my hand down Corinna's 1186Dress, and exploring her breasts, I'd work 1187Myself off her finger (tight squeeze or not) and by crafty 1188Cunning drop into her cleavage. Let's say 1189She was writing a private letter - I'd have to seal it, 1190@P 1191And a dry stone sticks on wax: 1192She's moisten me with her tongue. Pure bliss - provided 1193I didn't have to endorse any hostile remarks 1194Against myself. If she wanted to put me away in her 1195Jewel-box, I'd cling tighter, refuse to budge. 1196(Don't worry, my sweet, I'd never cause you discomfort, 1197or burden 1198Your slender finger with an unwelcome weight.) 1199Wear me whenever you take a hot shower, don't worry 1200If water runs under your gem - 1201Though I fancy the sight of you naked would arise my 1202passions, leave me 1203A ring of visibly virile parts... 1204Pure wishful thinking! On your way, then, little present, 1205And show her you come with all my love. 1206 1207@A Ovid 1208@A (BC 43-AD 17) 1209# 1210@T After an Interval 1211 1212After an interval, reading, here in the midnight, 1213With the great stars looking on -- all the starts of Orion looking, 1214And the silent Pleiades -- and the duo looking of Saturn and ruddy Mars; 1215Pondering, reading my own songs, after a long interval, 1216(sorrow and death familiar now) 1217Ere Closing the book, what pride! what joy! to find them 1218Standing so well the test of death and night, 1219And the duo of Saturn and Mars! 1220 1221@A Walt Whitman 1222# 1223@T A Last Poem 1224 1225A last poem, and a last, and yet another -- 1226O, when can I give over? 1227Must I drive the pen until the blood bursts from my nails 1228And my breath fails and I shake with fever? 1229Shall I never hear her whisper softly, 1230"But this is one written by you only, 1231And for me only; therefore, love, have done"? 1232 1233@A Robert Graves 1234# 1235I have no pain, dear Mother, now, 1236But, oh, I am so dry; 1237So connect me to a brewery, 1238And leave me there to die. 1239 1240@A Anonymous 1241# 1242@T Found Poem (from the Hound of the Baskervilles) 1243 1244I stooped, panting, and pressed my pistol 1245To the dreaful, shimmering head, 1246But it was useless to press the trigger, 1247The giant hound was dead. 1248 1249@A A. Conan Doyle 1250# 1251@T Passing through the Carron Iron Works 1252 1253We cam na here to view your warks, 1254In hopes to be mair wise, 1255But only, lest we gang to Hell, 1256It may be nae surprise. 1257 1258@A Robert Burns 1259# 1260@T Imitation of Pope: A Compliment to the Ladies 1261 1262Wondrous the Gods, more wondrous are the Men, 1263More Wondrous Wondrous still the Cock & Hen, 1264More Wondrous still the Table, Stool & Chair; 1265But Ah! More wondrous still the Charming Fair. 1266 1267@A William Blake 1268# 1269@T Upon the Nipples of Julia's Breast 1270 1271Have ye beheld (with much delight) 1272A red rose peeping through a white? 1273Or else a cherry (double grac'd) 1274Within a lily? Centre plac'd? 1275Or ever mark'd the pretty beam, 1276A strawberry shows half drown'd in cream? 1277Or seen rich rubies blushing through 1278A pure smooth pearl, and orient too? 1279So like to this, nay all the rest, 1280Is each neat niplet of her breast. 1281 1282@A Robert Herrick 1283# 1284@T Life 1285 1286When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat; 1287Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit; 1288Trust on, and think tomorrow will repay: 1289Tomorrow's falser than the former day; 1290Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blessed 1291With some new joys, cut off what we possessed. 1292Strange cozenage! None would live past years again, 1293Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; 1294And from the dregs of life think to receive 1295What the first sprightly running could not give. 1296 1297@A John Dryden 1298# 1299@T To a Yellow Hammer 1300 1301Poor yellow-breasted little thing, 1302I would thou had'st been on the wing, 1303'Ere 'twas my fate on thee to bring 1304Thy death so soon; 1305Thou'lt never more be heard to sing 1306In joyful tune. 1307 1308Too late I saw thee 'mongst the dust, 1309Gambling so gay in simple trust, 1310I knew that with my wheel I must 1311Thy life destroy; 1312How cruel quick my rubber crushed 1313Thee in thy joy. 1314 1315@A Anonymous 1316# 1317@T Wrecked 1318 1319A girl, a wheel, 1320A shock, a squeal, 1321A header, a thump, 1322A girl in a lump, 1323A bloomer all torn, 1324A maiden forlorn. 1325 1326@A Annymous 1327# 1328@T Gather ye Rosebuds 1329 1330Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 1331Old Time is still a-flying; 1332And this same flower that smiles today 1333Tomorrow will be dying. 1334 1335The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, 1336The higher he's a-getting, 1337The sooner will his race be run, 1338And nearer he's to setting. 1339 1340That age is best, which is the first, 1341When youth and blood are warmer 1342But being spent, the worse, and worst 1343Times still succeed the former. 1344 1345Then be not coy, but use your time, 1346And while you may, go marry; 1347For having lost but once your prime, 1348You may for ever tarry. 1349 1350@A Robert Herrick 1351# 1352@T My Love's a Match 1353 1354My love's a match in beauty 1355For every flower that blows, 1356Her little ear's a lily, 1357Her velvet cheek a rose; 1358Her locks like gilly gowans 1359Hang golden to her knww. 1360If I were King of Ireland, 1361My Queen she'd surely be. 1362 1363Her eyes are fond forget-me-nots, 1364And no such snow is seen 1365Upon the heaving hawthorn bush 1366As crests her bodice green. 1367The thrushes when she's talking 1368Sit listening on the tree. 1369If I were King of Ireland, 1370My Queen she'd surely be. 1371 1372@A Alfred P. Graves 1373# 1374@T In a Gondola 1375 1376The moth's kiss, first! 1377Kiss me as if you made believe 1378You were not sure, this eve, 1379How my face, your flower, had pursed 1380Its petals up; so, here and there 1381You brush it, till I grow aware 1382Who wants me, and wide ope I burst. 1383 1384The bee's kiss, now! 1385Kiss me as if you enter'd gay 1386My heart at some noonday, 1387A bud that dares not disallow 1388The claim, so all is render'd up, 1389And passively its shatter'd cup 1390Over your head to sleep I bow. 1391 1392@A Robert Browning 1393# 1394@T To his Coy Mistress 1395 1396Had we but worlds enough, and time, 1397This coyness, Lady, were no crime. 1398We would sit down and think which way 1399To walk and pass our long love's day. 1400Thou by the Indian Ganges' side 1401Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide 1402Of Humber would complain. I would 1403Love you ten years before the Flood, 1404And you should, if you please, refuse 1405Till the conversion of the Jews. 1406My vegetable love should grow 1407Vaster than empires, and more slow; 1408An hundred years should go to praise 1409Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; 1410Two hundred to adore each breast, 1411But thirty thousand to the rest; 1412An age at least to every part, 1413And the last age should show your heart. 1414For, Lady, you deserve this state, 1415Nor would I love at a lower rate. 1416@P 1417But at my back I always hear 1418Time's winged chariot hurrying near; 1419And yonder all before us lie 1420Deserts of vast eternity. 1421Thy beauty shall no more be found, 1422Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound 1423My echoing song: then worms shall try 1424That long preserved virginity, 1425And your quaint honour turn to dust, 1426And into ashes all my lust: 1427The grave's a fine and private place, 1428But none, I think, do there embrace. 1429@P 1430Now therefore, while the youthful hue 1431Sits on thy skin like morning dew, 1432And while thy willing soul transpires 1433At every port with instant fires, 1434Now let us sport us while we may, 1435And now, like amorous birds of prey, 1436Rather at once our time devour 1437Than languish in his slow-chapt power. 1438Let us roll all our strength and all 1439Our sweetness up into one ball, 1440And tear our pleasures with rough strife 1441Through the iron gates of life: 1442Thus, though we cannot make our sun 1443Stand still, yet we will make him run. 1444 1445@A Andrew Marvell 1446# 1447@T Destiny 1448 1449Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours 1450For one lone soul another lonely soul, 1451Each choosing each through all the weary hours 1452And meeting strangely at one sudden goal. 1453Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers, 1454Into one beautiful and perfect whole; 1455And life's long night is ended, and the way 1456Lies open onward to eternal day. 1457 1458@A Edwin Arnold 1459# 1460@T A Stolen Kiss 1461 1462Now gentle sleep hath closed up those eyes 1463Which, waking, kept my boldest thoughts in awe; 1464And free access unto that sweet lip lies, 1465From whence I long the rosy breath to draw. 1466 1467Methinks no wrong it were, if I should steal 1468From those two melting rubies one poor kiss; 1469None sees the theft that would the theft reveal, 1470Nor rob I her of aught that she can miss; 1471 1472Nay, should I twenty kisses take away, 1473There would be little sign I would do so; 1474Why then should I this robbery delay? 1475O, she may wake, and therewith angry grow! 1476 1477Well, if she do, I'll back restore that one, 1478And twenty hundred thousand more for loan. 1479 1480@A George Wither 1481# 1482@T How do I love thee? 1483 1484How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 1485I love thee to the depth and breadth and height 1486My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 1487For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. 1488I love thee to the level of every day's 1489Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. 1490I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; 1491I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. 1492I love thee with the passion put to use 1493In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. 1494I love thee with a love I seemed to lose 1495With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath, 1496Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose, 1497I shall but love thee better after death. 1498 1499@A Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1500# 1501@T Old Man 1502 1503Old Man, or Lad's-love, -- in the name there's nothing 1504To one that knows not Lad's-love, or Old Man, 1505The hoar-green feathery herb, almost a tree, 1506Growing with rosemary and lavendar. 1507Even to one that knows it well, the names 1508Hald decorate, half perplex, the thing it is: 1509At least, what that is clings not to the names 1510In spite of time. And yet I like the names. 1511 1512The herb itself I like not, but for certain 1513I love it, as some day the child will love it 1514Who plucks a feather from the door-side bush 1515Whenever she goes in or out of the house. 1516Often she waits there, snipping the tips and shrivelling 1517The shreds at last on to the path, perhaps 1518@P 1519Thinking, perhaps of nothing, till she sniffs 1520Her finger and runs off. The bush is still 1521But half as tall as she, though it is as old; 1522So well she clips it. Not a word she says; 1523And I can only wonder hwo much hereafter 1524She will remember, with that bitter scent, 1525Of garden rows, and ancient damson-trees 1526Topping a hedge, a bent path to a door, 1527A low thick bush beside the door, and me 1528Forbidding her to pick. 1529 1530As for myself, 1531Where first I met the bitter scent is lost. 1532I, too, often shrivel the grey shreds, 1533Sniff them and think and sniff again and try 1534Once more to think what it is I am remembering, 1535Always in vain. I cannot like the scent, 1536Yet I would rather give up others more sweet, 1537With no meaning, that this bitter one. 1538@P 1539I have mislaid the key. I sniff the spray 1540And think of nothing; I see and I hear nothing; 1541Yet seem, too, to be listening, lying in wait 1542For what I should, yet never can, remember: 1543No garden appears, no path, no hoar-green bush 1544Of Lad's-love, or Old Man, no child beside, 1545Neither father nor mother, nor any playmate; 1546Only an avenue, dark and nameless, without end. 1547 1548@A Edward Thomas 1549# 1550@T The Manor Farm 1551 1552The rock-like mud unfroze a little and rills 1553Ran and sparkled down each side of the road 1554Under the catkins wagging in the hedge. 1555But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun; 1556Nor did I value that thin gilding beam 1557More than a pretty February thing 1558Till I came down to the old Manor Farm, 1559And church and yet-tree opposite, in age 1560Its equal and in size. Small church, great yew, 1561And farmhouse slept in a Sunday silentness. 1562The air raised not a straw. The steep farm roof, 1563With tiles duskily glowing, entertained 1564The midday sun; and up and down the roof 1565White pigeons nestled. There was no sound but one. 1566Three cart-horses were looking over a gate 1567Drowsily through their forelocks, swiching their tails 1568Against a fly, a solitary fly. 1569@P 1570The Winter's cheek flushed as if he had drained 1571Spring, Summer, and Autumn at a draught 1572And smiled quietly. But 'twas not Winter -- 1573Rather a season of bliss unchangeable 1574Awakened from farm and church where it had lain 1575Safe under tile and thatch for ages since 1576This England, Old already, was called Merry. 1577 1578@A Edward Thomas 1579# 1580@T The Unknown Bird 1581 1582Three lovely notes he whistled, too soft to be heard 1583If others sang; but others never sang 1584In the great beech-wood all that May and June. 1585No one saw him: I alone could hear him 1586Though many listened. Was it but four years 1587Ago? or five? He never came again. 1588Oftenest when I heard him I was alone, 1589Nor could I ever make another hear. 1590La-la-la! he called, seeming far-off -- 1591As if a cock crowed past the edge of the world, 1592As if the bird or I were in a dream. 1593Yet that he travelled through the trees and soometimes 1594Neared me, was plain, though somehow distant still 1595He sounded. All the proof is -- I told men 1596What I had heard. 1597@P 1598I never knew a voice, 1599Man, beast, or bird, better than this. I told 1600The naturalists; but neither had they heard 1601Anything like the notes that did so haunt me 1602I had them clear by heart and have them still. 1603Four years, or five, have made no difference. Then 1604As now that La-la-la! was bodiless sweet: 1605Sad more than joyful it was, if I must say 1606'Twas sad only with joy too, too far off 1607For me to taste it. But I cannot tell 1608If truly never anything but fair 1609The days were when he sang, as now they seem. 1610This surely I know, that I who listened then, 1611Happy sometimes, sometimes suffering 1612A heavy body and a heavy heart, 1613Now straightaway, if I think of it, become 1614Light as that bird wandering beyond my shore. 1615 1616@A Edward Thomas 1617# 1618@T First known when lost 1619 1620I never had noticed it until 1621'Twas gone, -- the narrow copse 1622Where now the woodman lops 1623The last of the willows with his bill. 1624 1625It was not more than a hedge o'ergrown. 1626One meadow's breadth away 1627I passed it day by day. 1628Now the soil is bare as a bone, 1629 1630And black betwixt two meadows green, 1631Though fresh-cut faggot ends 1632Of hazel make some amends 1633With a gleam as if flowers they had been. 1634 1635Strange it could have hidden so near! 1636And now I see as I look 1637That the small winding brook, 1638A tributary's tributary rises there. 1639 1640@A Edward Thomas 1641# 1642@T The Owl 1643 1644Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved; 1645Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof 1646Against the North wind: tired, yet so that rest 1647Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof. 1648 1649Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest, 1650Knowing how hungry, cold and tired was I. 1651All of the night was quite barred out except 1652An owl's cry, a most melancholy cry 1653 1654Shaken out long and clear upon the hill, 1655No merry note, nor cause of merriment, 1656But one telling me plain what I escaped 1657And others could not, that night, as in I went. 1658 1659And salted was my food, and my repose, 1660Salted and sobered, too, by the bird's voice 1661Speaking for all who lay under the stars, 1662Soldiers and poor, unable to rejoice. 1663 1664@A Edward Thomas 1665# 1666@T But these things also 1667 1668But these things also are Spring's -- 1669On banks by the roadside the grass 1670Long-dead that is greyer now 1671Than all the Winter it was; 1672 1673The shell of a little snail bleached 1674In the grass; chip of flint, and mite 1675Of chalk; and the small bird's dung 1676In splashes of purest white: 1677 1678All the white things a man mistakes 1679For earliest violets 1680Who seeks through Winter's ruins 1681Something to pay Winter's debts, 1682 1683While the North blows, and starling flocks 1684By chattering on and on 1685Keeep their spirits up in the mist, 1686And Spring's here, Winter's not gone. 1687 1688@A Edward Thomas 1689# 1690@T The New House 1691 1692Now first, as I shut the door, 1693I was alone 1694In the new house; and the wind 1695Began to moan. 1696 1697Old at once was the house, 1698And I was old; 1699My ears were teased with the dread 1700Of what was foretold, 1701 1702Nights of storm, days of mist, without end; 1703Sad days when the sun 1704Shone in vain: old griefs, and griefs 1705Not yet begun. 1706 1707All was foretold me; naught 1708Could I foresee; 1709But I learnt how the wind would sound 1710After these things should be. 1711 1712@A Edward Thomas 1713# 1714@T Lovers 1715 1716The two men in the road were taken aback. 1717The lovers came out shading their eyes from the sun, 1718And never was white so white, or black so black, 1719As her cheeks and hair. 'There are more things than one 1720A man might turn into a wood for, Jack,' 1721Said George; Jack whispered: 'He has not got a gun. 1722It's a bit too much of a good thing, I say. 1723They are going the other road, look. And see her run.' -- 1724She ran -- 'What a thing it is, this picking may.' 1725 1726@A Edward Thomas 1727# 1728@T Melancholy 1729 1730The rain and wind, the rain and wind, raved endlessly. 1731On me the Summer storm, and fever, and melancholy 1732Wrought magic, so that if I feared the solitude 1733Far more I feared all company: too sharp, too rude, 1734Had been the wisest or the dearest human voice. 1735What I desired I knew not, but whate'er my choice 1736Vain it must be, I knew. Yet naught did my despair 1737But sweeten the strange sweetness, while through the wild air 1738All day long I heard a distant cuckoo calling 1739And, soft as dulcimers, sounds of near water falling, 1740And, softer, and remote as if in history, 1741Rumours of what had touched my friends, my foes, or me. 1742 1743@A Edward Thomas 1744# 1745@T The Glory 1746 1747The glory of the beauty of the morning, -- 1748The cuckoo crying over the untouched dew; 1749The blackbird that has found it, and the dove 1750That tempts me on to something sweeter than love; 1751White clouds ranged even and fair as new-mown hay; 1752The heat, the stir, the sublime vancancy 1753Of sky meadow and forest and my own heart: -- 1754The glory invites me, yet it leaves me scorning 1755All I can ever do, all I can be, 1756Beside the lovely of motion, shape, and hue, 1757The happiness I fancy fit to dwell 1758In beauty's presence. Shall I now this day 1759@P 1760Begin to seek as far as heaven, as hell, 1761Wisdom or strength to match this beauty, start 1762And tread the pale dust pitted with small dark drops, 1763In hope to find whatever it is I seek, 1764Hearkening to short-lived happy-seeming things 1765That we know naught of, in the hazel copse? 1766Or must I be content with discontent 1767As larks and swallows are perhaps with wings? 1768And shall I ask at the day's end once more 1769What beauty is, and what I can have meant 1770By happiness? And shall I let all go, 1771Glad, weary, or both? Or shall I perhaps know 1772That I was happy oft and oft before, 1773Awhile forgetting how I am fast pent, 1774How dreary-swift, with naught to travel to, 1775Is Time? I cannot bite the day to the core. 1776 1777@A Edward Thomas 1778# 1779@T The Brook 1780 1781Seated by a brook, watching a child 1782Chiefly that paddled, I was this beguiled. 1783Mellow the blackbird sang and sharp the thrush 1784Not far off in the oak and hazel brush, 1785Unseen. There was a scent like honeycomb 1786From mugwort dull. And down upon the dome 1787Of the stone the card-horse kicks against so oft 1788A butterfly alighted. From aloft 1789He took the heat of the sun, and from below, 1790On the hot stone he perched contented so, 1791As if never a cart would pass again 1792That way; as if I were the last of men 1793And he the first of insects to have earth 1794And sun together and to know their worth. 1795@P 1796I was divided between him and the gleam, 1797The motion, and the voices, of the stream, 1798The waters running frizzled over gravel, 1799Thaat never vanish and for ever travel. 1800A grey flycatcher silent on a fence 1801And I sat as if we had been there since 1802The horseman and the horse lying beneath 1803The fir-tree-covered barrow on the heath, 1804The horseman and the horse with silver shoes, 1805Galloped the downs last. All that I could lose 1806I lost. And then the child's voice raised the dead. 1807'No one's been here before' was what she said 1808And what I felt, yet never should have found 1809A word for, while I gathered sight and sound. 1810 1811@A Edward Thomas 1812# 1813@T This is no case of petty right or wrong 1814 1815This is no case of petty right or wrong 1816That politicians or philosphers 1817Can judge. I hate not Germans, nor grow hot 1818With love of Englishmen, to please newspapers. 1819Beside my hate for one fat patriot 1820My hatred of the Kaiser is love true :-- 1821A kind of god he is, banging a gong. 1822But I have not to choose between the two, 1823Or between justice and injustice. Dinned 1824With war and argument I read no more 1825Than in the storm smoking along the wind 1826Athwart the wood. Two witches' cauldrons roar. 1827@P 1828From one the weather shall rise clear and gay; 1829Out of the other an England beautiful 1830And like her mother that died yesterday. 1831Little I know or care if, being dull, 1832I shall miss something that historians 1833Can rake out of the ashes when perchance 1834The phoenix broods serene above their ken. 1835But with the best and meanest Englishmen 1836I am one in crying, God save England, lest 1837We lose what never slaves and cattle blessed. 1838The ages made here that made us from the dust: 1839She is all we know and live by, and we trust 1840She is good and must endure, loving her so: 1841And as we love ourselves we hate her foe. 1842 1843@A Edward Thomas 1844# 1845@T Helen 1846 1847And you, Helen, what should I give you? 1848So many things I would give you 1849Had I an infinite great store 1850Offered me and I stood before 1851To choose. I would give you youth, 1852All kinds of lovelines and truth, 1853A clear eye as good as mine, 1854Lands, waters, flowers, wine, 1855As many children as your heart 1856Might wish for, a far better art 1857Than mine can be, all you have lost 1858Upon the travelling waters tossed, 1859Or given to me. If I could choose 1860Freely in that great treasure-house 1861Anything from any shelf, 1862I would give you back yourself, 1863And power to discriminate 1864What you want and want it not too late, 1865Many fair days free from care 1866And heart to enjoy both foul and fair, 1867And myself, too, if I could find 1868Where it lay hidden and it proved kind. 1869 1870@A Edward Thomas 1871# 1872@T Bob's Lane 1873 1874Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob, 1875Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but he 1876Loved horses. He himself was like a cob, 1877And leather-coloured. Also he loved a tree. 1878 1879For the life in them he loved most living things, 1880But a tree chiefly. All along the lane 1881He planted elms where now the stormcock sings 1882That travellers hear from the slow-climbing train. 1883 1884Till then the track had never had a name 1885For all its thicket and the nightingales 1886That should have earned it. No one was to blame. 1887To name a thing beloved man sometimes fails. 1888 1889Many years since, Bob Hayward died, and now 1890None passes there because the mist and the rain 1891Out of the elms have turned the lane to slough 1892And gloom, the name alone survives, Bob's Lane. 1893 1894@A Edward Thomas 1895# 1896@T The Poetry of Dress 1897 1898A sweet disorder in the dress 1899Kindles in clothes a wantonness :-- 1900A lawn about the shoulders thrown 1901Into a fine distraction, -- 1902An erring lace, which here and there 1903Enthrals the crimson stomacher -- 1904A cuff neglectful, and thereby 1905Ribbands to flow confusedly, -- 1906A winning wave, deserving note, 1907In the tempestuous petticoat, -- 1908A careless shoe-string, in whose tie 1909I see a wild civility, -- 1910Do more bewitch me, than when art 1911Is too precise in evry part. 1912 1913@A R. Herrick 1914# 1915@T The Poetry of Dress 1916 1917When as in silks my Julia goes 1918Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows 1919That liquefaction of her clothes. 1920 1921Next, when I cast mine eyes and see 1922That brave vibration each way free; 1923O how that glittering taketh me! 1924 1925@A R. Herrick 1926# 1927My Love in her attire doth show her wit, 1928It doth so well become her: 1929For every season she hath dressings fit, 1930For Winter, Spring and Summer. 1931No beauty she doth miss 1932When all her robes are on: 1933But Beauty's self she is 1934When all her robes are gone. 1935 1936@A Anonymous 1937# 1938@T On a Girdle 1939 1940That which her slender waist confined 1941Shall now my joyful temples bind: 1942No monarch but would give his crown 1943His arms might do what this has done. 1944 1945It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, 1946The pale which held that lovely deer: 1947My joy, my grief, my hope, my love 1948Did all within this circle move. 1949 1950A narrow compass! and yet there 1951Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair: 1952Give me but what this ribband bound, 1953Take all the rest the Sun goes round. 1954 1955@A E. Waller 1956# 1957@T The Lost Love 1958 1959She dwelt among the untrodden ways 1960Beside the springs of Dove; 1961A maid whom there were none to praise, 1962And very few to love: 1963 1964A violet by a mossy stone 1965Half hidden from the eye! 1966-- Fair as a star, when only one 1967Is shining in the sky. 1968 1969She lived unknown, and few could know 1970When Lucy ceased to be; 1971But she is in her grave, and oh, 1972The difference to me! 1973 1974@A W. Wordsworth 1975# 1976I strove with none, for none was worth my strife; 1977Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; 1978I warmed both hands before the fire of life 1979It sinks, and I am ready to depart. 1980 1981@A W. S. Landor 1982# 1983@T The Miller's Daughter 1984 1985It is the miller's daughter, 1986And she is grown so dear, so dear, 1987That I would be the jewel 1988That trembles in her ear: 1989For his in ringlets day and night, 1990I'd touch her neck so warm and white. 1991 1992And I would be the girdle 1993About her dainty waist, 1994And her heart would beat against me 1995In sorrow and in rest: 1996And I should know if it beat right, 1997I'd clasp it round so close and tight. 1998 1999And I would be the necklace, 2000And all day long to fall and rise 2001Upon her balmy bosom, 2002With her laughter or her sighs, 2003And I would lie so light, so light, 2004I scarce should be unclasp'd at night. 2005 2006@A Lord Tennyson 2007# 2008@T Sea-fever 2009 2010I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, 2011And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, 2012And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, 2013And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking. 2014 2015I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide 2016Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; 2017And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, 2018And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. 2019 2020I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, 2021To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; 2022And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, 2023And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. 2024 2025@A John Masefield 2026# 2027@T The Drum 2028 2029I hate that drum's discordant sound, 2030Parading round, and round, and round: 2031To thoughtless youth it pleasure yields, 2032And lures from cities and from fields, 2033To sell their liberty for charms 2034Of tawdry lace, and glittering arms; 2035And when Ambition's voice commands, 2036To march, and fight, and fall, in foreign lands. 2037 2038I hate that drum's discordant sound, 2039Parading round, and round, and round: 2040To me it talks of ravag'd plains, 2041And burning towns, and ruin'd swains, 2042And mangled limbs, and dying groans, 2043And widows' tears, and orphans' moans; 2044And all that Misery's hand bestows, 2045To fill the catalogue of human woes. 2046 2047@A John Scott 2048@A (1730-83) 2049# 2050@T Everlasting Mercy 2051 2052Near Bullen Bank, on Gloucester road 2053Thy everlasting mercy showed 2054The ploughman patient on the hill, forever there, 2055Forever still 2056Ploughing the hill with steady yoke, 2057The pine trees lightning-struck and broke. 2058 2059I've marked the May Hill ploughman stay 2060There on his hill day after day 2061Driving his team against the sky 2062While men and women live and die 2063And now and then he seems to stoop 2064To clear the coulter with the scoop 2065Or touch an ox, to haw or gee, 2066While Severn's stream goes out to sea. 2067@P 2068Near Bullen Bank, on Gloucester road 2069Thy everlasting mercy showed 2070The ploughman patient on the hill, forever there, 2071Forever still 2072The sea with all her ships and sails, 2073And that great smokey port in Wales, 2074And Gloucester tower bright in the sun, 2075All know that patient wandering one. 2076 2077@A John Masefield 2078 2079Johnny Coppin's haunting arrangement of this available from 2080Red Sky Records, 'English Morning' RSKC 107 2081# 2082@T Dawn 2083(From the train between Bologna and Milan, Second Class) 2084 2085Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat. 2086Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar. 2087We have been here for ever: even yet 2088A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more. 2089The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet 2090With a night's foetor. There are two hours more; 2091Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours yet. 2092Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore... 2093 2094One of them wakes, and spits, and sleeps again. 2095The darkness shivers. A wan light through the rain 2096Strikes on our faces, drawn and white. Somewhere 2097A new day sprawls; and, inside, the foul air 2098Is chill, and damp, and fouler than before... 2099Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore. 2100 2101@A Rupert Brooke 2102# 2103@T The Voice 2104 2105Safe in the magic of my woods 2106I lay, and watched the dying light. 2107Faint in the pale high solitudes, 2108And washed with rain and veiled by night, 2109 2110Silver and blue and green were showing. 2111And the dark woods grew darker still; 2112And birds were hushed; and peace was growing; 2113And quietness crept up the hill; 2114 2115And no wind was blowing... 2116 2117And I knew 2118That this was the hour of knowing, 2119And the night and the woods and you 2120Were one together, and I should find 2121Soon in the silence the hidden key 2122Of all that had hurt and puzzled me -- 2123Why you were you, and the night was kind, 2124And the woods were part of the heart of me. 2125@P 2126And there I waited breathlessly, 2127Alone; and slowly the holy three, 2128The three that I loved, together grew 2129One, in the hour of knowing, 2130Night, and the woods, and you -- 2131 2132And suddenly 2133There was an uproar in my woods, 2134The noise of a fool in mock distress, 2135Crashing and laughing and blindly going, 2136Of ignorant feet and a swishing dress, 2137And a Voice profaning the solitudes. 2138@P 2139The spell was broken, the key denied me, 2140And at length your flat clear voice beside me 2141Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes. 2142 2143You came and quacked beside me in the wood. 2144You said, 'The view from here is very good!' 2145You said, 'It's nice to be alone a bit!' 2146And, 'How the days are drawing out!' you said. 2147You said, 'The sunset's pretty, isn't it?' 2148 2149* * * 2150 2151By God! I wish -- I wish that you were dead! 2152 2153@A Rupert Brooke 2154# 2155@T On a Tired Housewife 2156 2157Here lies a poor woman who was always tired, 2158She lived in a house where help wasn't hired; 2159Her last words on earth were: 'Dear friends, I am going 2160To where there's no cooking, or washing, or sewing, 2161For everything there is exact to my wishes, 2162For where they don't eat there's no washing of dishes. 2163I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing, 2164But having no voice I'll be quit of the singing. 2165Don't mourn for me now, don't mourn for me never, 2166I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.' 2167 2168@A Anonymous 2169# 2170@T On Johnny Cole 2171 2172Here lies Johnny Cole 2173Who died, on my soul, 2174After eating a plentiful dinner; 2175While chewing his crust, 2176He was turned into dust, 2177With his crimes undigested - poor sinner. 2178 2179@A Anonymous 2180# 2181@T On a Wag in Mauchline 2182 2183Lament him, Mauchline husbands a', 2184He often did assist ye; 2185For had ye staid whole weeks awa', 2186Your wives they ne'er had missed ye. 2187 2188Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye pass, 2189To schools in bands thegither, 2190Oh, tread ye lightly on his grass, 2191Perhaps he was your father. 2192 2193@A Robert Burns 2194# 2195@T Willie's Epitaph 2196 2197Little Willie from his mirror 2198Licked the mercury right off, 2199Thinking, in his childish error, 2200It would cure the whooping cough. 2201At the funeral his mother 2202Smartly turned to Mrs Brown: 2203''Twas a chilly day for Willie 2204When the mercury went down.' 2205 2206@A Anonymous 2207# 2208@T On Mary Ann Lowder 2209 2210Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder, 2211She burst while drinking a seidlitz powder. 2212Called from this world to her heavenly rest, 2213She should have waited till it effervesced. 2214 2215@A Anonymous 2216# 2217@T On Miss Arabella Young 2218 2219Here lies, returned to clay, 2220Miss Arabella Young, 2221Who on the first day of May 2222Began to hold her tongue. 2223 2224@A Anonymous 2225# 2226@T From The Westminster Drollery, 1671 2227 2228I saw a peacock with a fiery tail 2229I saw a blazing comet drop down hail 2230I saw a cloud wrapped with ivy round 2231I saw an oak creep upon the ground 2232I saw a pismire swallow up a whale 2233I saw the sea brimful of ale 2234I saw a Venice glass full fifteen feet deep 2235I saw a well full of men's tears that weep 2236I saw red eyes all of a flaming fire 2237I saw a house bigger than the moon and higher 2238I saw the sun at twelve o'clock at night 2239I saw the man that saw this wondrous sight. 2240 2241@A Anonymous 2242# 2243@T Epigram 2244 2245Engraved on the collar which I gave to his 2246Royal Highness Frederick Prince of Wales: 2247 2248I am his Highness' dog at Kew 2249Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you? 2250 2251@A Alexander Pope 2252# 2253@T A Man of Words 2254 2255A man of words and not of deeds, 2256Is like a garden full of weeds; 2257And when the weeds begin to grow, 2258It's like a garden full of snow; 2259And when the snow begins to fall, 2260It's like a bird upon the wall; 2261And when the bird away does fly, 2262It's like an eagle in the sky; 2263And when the skye begins to roar, 2264It's like a lion at the door; 2265And when the door begins to crack, 2266It's like a stick across your back; 2267And when your back begins to smart, 2268It's like a penknife in your heart; 2269And when your heart begins to bleed, 2270You're dead, and dead, and dead indeed. 2271 2272@A Anonymous 2273# 2274@T The Voice of the Lobster 2275 2276''Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare, 2277"You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair." 2278As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose 2279Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes. 2280When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, 2281And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark: 2282But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, 2283His voice has a timid and tremuous sound. 2284 2285'I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye, 2286How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie: 2287The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat, 2288While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. 2289When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, 2290Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon: 2291While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, 2292And concluded the banquet by --' 2293 2294@A Lewis Carroll 2295# 2296@T Lines by a Humanitarian 2297 2298Be lenient with lobsters, and ever kind to crabs, 2299And be not disrespectful to cuttle-fish or dabs; 2300Chase not the Cochin-China, chaff not the ox obese, 2301And babble not of feather-beds in company with geese. 2302Be tender with the tadpole, and let the limpet thrive, 2303Be merciful to mussels, don't skin your eels alive; 2304When talking to a turtle don't mention calipee -- 2305Be always kind to animals wherever you may be. 2306 2307@A Anonymous 2308# 2309@T The Common Cormorant 2310 2311The common cormorant or shag 2312Lays eggs inside a paper bag. 2313The reason you will see no doubt 2314It is to keep the lightning out. 2315But what these unobservant birds 2316Have never noticed is that herds 2317Of wandering bears may come with buns 2318And steal the bags to hold the crumbs. 2319 2320@A Anonymous 2321# 2322@T Imitation of Chaucer 2323 2324Women ben full of Ragerie, 2325Yet swinken not sans secresie 2326Thilke Moral shall ye understand, 2327From Schoole-boy's Tale of fayre Irelond: 2328Which to the Fennes hath him betake, 2329To filch the gray Ducke fro the Lake. 2330Right then, there passen by the Way 2331His Aunt, and eke her Daughters tway. 2332Ducke in his Trowses hath he hent, 2333Not to be spied of Ladies gent. 2334'But ho! our Nephew,' (crieth one) 2335'Ho,' quoth another, 'Cozen John'; 2336And stoppen, and laugh, and callen out, -- 2337This sely Clerk full low doth lout: 2338@P 2339They asken that, and talken this, 2340'Lo here is Coz, and here is Miss.' 2341But, as he glozeth with Speeches soote, 2342The Ducke sore tickleth his Erse-root: 2343Fore-piece and buttons all-to-brest, 2344Forth thrust a white neck, and red crest. 2345'Te-he,' cry'd Ladies; Clerke nought spake: 2346Miss star'd; and gray Ducke crieth Quake. 2347'O Moder, Moder' (quoth the daughter) 2348'Be thilke same thing Maids longen a'ter? 2349'Better is to pyne on coals and chalke, 2350'Then trust on Mon, whose yerde can talke.' 2351 2352@A Alexander Pope 2353# 2354@T Sonnet 2355 2356Live with me, and be my love, 2357And we will all the pleasures prove 2358That hills and valleys, dales and fields, 2359And all the craggy mountains yields. 2360 2361There will we sit upon the rocks, 2362And see the shepherds feed their flocks, 2363By shallow rivers, by whose falls 2364Melodious birds sing madrigals. 2365 2366There will I make thee a bed of roses, 2367With a thousand fragrant posies, 2368A cap of flowers, and a kirtle 2369Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. 2370@P 2371A belt of straw and ivy buds, 2372With coral clasps and amber studs; 2373And if these pleasures may thee move, 2374Then live with me and be my love. 2375 2376LOVE'S ANSWER 2377 2378If that the world and love were young, 2379And truth in every shepherd's tongue, 2380These pretty pleasures might me move 2381To live with thee and be thy love. 2382 2383@A William Shakespeare 2384# 2385@T O No, John! 2386 2387On yonder hill there stands a creature; 2388Who she is I do not know. 2389I'll go and court her for her beauty, 2390She must answer yes or no. 2391O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2392 2393On her bosom are bunches of posies, 2394On her breast where flowers grow; 2395If I should chance to touch that posy, 2396She must answer yes or no. 2397O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2398 2399Madam I am come for to court you, 2400If your favour I can gain; 2401If you will but entertain me, 2402Perhaps then I might come again. 2403O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2404 2405My husband was a Spanish captain, 2406Went to sea a month ago; 2407The very last time we kissed and parted, 2408Bid me always answer no. 2409O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2410@P 2411Madam in your face is beauty, 2412In your bosom flowers grow; 2413In your bedroom there is pleasure, 2414Shall I view it, yes or no? 2415O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2416 2417Madam shall I tie your garter, 2418Tie it a little above your knee; 2419If my hands should slip a little farther, 2420Would you think it amiss of me? 2421O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2422 2423My love and I went to bed together, 2424There we lay till cocks did crow; 2425Unclose your arms my dearest jewel, 2426Unclose your arms and let me go. 2427O no, John! No, John! No, John! No! 2428 2429@A Old English Folk Song 2430# 2431@T Unfortunate 2432 2433Heart, you are as restless as a paper scrap 2434That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; 2435Saying, 'She is most wise, patient and kind. 2436Between the small hands folded in her lap 2437Surely a shamed head may bow down at length, 2438And find forgiveness where the shadows stir 2439About her lips, and wisdom in her strength, 2440Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!' . . . 2441 2442She will not care. She'll smile to see me come, 2443So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me. 2444She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me, 2445And open wide upon that holy air 2446The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home, 2447Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care. 2448 2449@A Rupert Brooke 2450# 2451@T The Busy Heart 2452 2453Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted, 2454I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. 2455(O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) 2456I'll think of Love in books, Love without end; 2457Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; 2458And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; 2459And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping; 2460And the young heavens, forgetful after rain; 2461And evening hush, broken by homing wings; 2462And Song's nobility, and Wisdom holy, 2463That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things, 2464Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly, 2465One after one, like tasting a sweet food. 2466I have need to busy my heart with quietude. 2467 2468@A Rupert Brooke 2469# 2470@T Love 2471 2472Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, 2473Where that comes in that shall not go again; 2474Love sells the proud heart's citadel to Fate. 2475They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then 2476When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking, 2477And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying 2478Of credulous hearts, in heaven -- such are but taking 2479Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying 2480Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost. 2481Some share that night. But they know, love grows colder, 2482Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most. 2483Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder, 2484But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss. 2485All this love; and all love is but this. 2486 2487@A Rupert Brooke 2488# 2489@T One Day 2490 2491Today I have been happy. All the day 2492I held the memory of you, and wove 2493Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray, 2494And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love, 2495And sent you following the white waves of sea, 2496And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth, 2497Stray buds from that old dust of misery, 2498Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth. 2499 2500So lightly I played with those dark memories, 2501Just as a child, beneath the summer skies, 2502Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone, 2503For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old, 2504And love has been betrayed, and murder done, 2505And great kings turned to a little bitter mould. 2506 2507@A Rupert Brooke 2508# 2509@T Doubts 2510 2511When she sleeps, her soul, I know, 2512Goes a wanderer on the air, 2513Wings where I may never go, 2514Leaves her lying, still and fair, 2515Waiting, empty, laid aside, 2516Like a dress upon a chair... 2517This I know, and yet I know 2518Doubts that will not be denied. 2519 2520For if the soul be not in place, 2521What has laid trouble in her face? 2522And, sits there nothing ware and wise 2523Behind the curtains of her eyes, 2524What is it, in the self's eclipse, 2525Shadows, soft and passingly, 2526About the corners of her lips, 2527The smile that is essential she? 2528 2529And if the spirit be not there, 2530Why is fragrance in the hair? 2531 2532@A Rupert Brooke 2533