In the morning when ye rise,Wash your hands and cleanse your eyes.Next be sure ye have a careTo disperse the water far;For as far as that doth light,So far keeps the evil sprite.
By Robert Herrick
Ode
The spacious firmament on high,With all the blue ethereal sky,And spangled heav’ns, a shining frame,Their great original proclaim:Th’ unwearied Sun, from day to day,Does his Creator’s power display,And publishes to every landThe work of an Almighty Hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail,The Moon takes up the wondrous tale,And nightly to the list’ning EarthRepeats the...
A Gravestone
Far from the churchyard dig his grave,On some green mound beside the wave;To westward, sea and sky alone,And sunsets. Put a mossy stone,With mortal name and date, a harpAnd bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp;Then leave it free to winds that blow,And patient mosses creeping; slow,And wandering wings, and footsteps rareOf human creature pausing there. William Allingham (19 March 1824 – 18 November...
Hymn to Love
We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,As théou, Léove, were the déep thoughtAnd we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,Thy fires of thought out-spoken: But burn’d not through us thy imaginingLike fiérce méood in a séong céaught,We were as clamour’d words a fool may fling,Loose words, of meaning broken. For what more like the brainless speech of a fool,—The lives...
A Geometric Feline Study
Smooth curvesSlim linesSoftBut poisedA spring coiledCompact power
Ears sharpAlert trianglesTents intentOn picking upThe smallest signOf prey to find
Sleek furJet blackOr mottled tabbyFriendly, contentOr raised, defensive
Eyes, UniqueGuarded, they surveyThen, with time,Playful and bright
The form, wholeAs oneThe CatComplete
Jake Waller
Love
O Love! thou makest all things evenIn earth or heaven;Finding thy way through prison-barsUp to the stars;Or, true to the Almighty plan,That out of dust created man,Thou lookest in a grave,–to seeThine immortality!
Sarah Flower Adams (22 February 1805 – 14 August 1848)
A Wish
I ask not that my bed of deathFrom bands of greedy heirs be free;For these besiege the latest breathOf fortune’s favoured sons, not me. I ask not each kind soul to keepTearless, when of my death he hears;Let those who will, if any, weep!There are worse plagues on earth than tears. I ask but that my death may findThe freedom to my life denied;Ask but the folly of mankind,Then, at last, to...
Snow flakes
I counted till they danced soTheir slippers leaped the town,And then I took a pencilTo note the rebels down.And then they grew so jollyI did resign the prig,And ten of my once stately toesAre marshalled for a jig!
Emily Dickinson 1830- 1886
New Year: A Dialogue
MORTAL:“The night is cold, the hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;Who is it knocking at my door?” THE NEW YEAR:“I am Good Cheer.” MORTAL:“Your voice is strange; I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.What seek you here?” THE NEW YEAR:“Friend, let me in; my name is Hope.” MORTAL:“And mine is Failure; you but mock the life you seek to bless. Pass on.” THE NEW YEAR:“Nay, open wide the door;...
No Second Troy
Why should I blame her that she filled my daysWith misery, or that she would of lateHave taught to ignorant men most violent ways,Or hurled the little streets upon the great,Had they but courage equal to desire?What could have made her peaceful with a mindThat nobleness made simple as a fire,With beauty like a tightened bow, a kindThat is not natural in an age like this,Being high and solitary...