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...
Lilies will languish; violets look ill;Sickly the primrose; pale the daffodil;That gallant tulip will hang down his head,Like to a virgin newly ravished;Pansies will weep, and marigolds will wither,And keep a fast and funeral together;Sappho droop, daisies will open never,But bid good-night, and close their lids for ever.
Robert Herrick (baptized 24 August 1591 – buried 15 October 1676
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
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)
To-night retired, the queen of heavenWith young Endymion stays;And now to Hesper it is givenAwhile to rule the vacant sky,Till she shall to her lamp supplyA stream of brighter rays. Propitious send thy golden ray,Thou purest light above!Let no false flame seduce to strayWhere gulf or steep lie hid for harm;But lead where music’s healing charmMay soothe afflicted love. To them, by many a...
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...
O three times famous isle, where is that place that mightBe with thyself compared for glory and delight,Whilst Glastonbury stood? exalted to that pride,Whose monastery seemed all other to deride:O, who thy ruin sees, whom wonder doth not fillWith their great fathers’ pomp, devotion, and their skill?Thou more than mortal power (this judgment rightly weighed),Then present to assist, at that...
Why are you looking at me?Can’t you see I want to be alone?I hid behind the door for a reasonBut I can’t get it to close The dogs are barkingThe kids are crazyI hid behind this door for a reasonI just want to be lazy The T.V. is loudInterrupting my sleepI hid behind this door for a reasonI don’t want to hear a peep Now you mow the lawn?!You were supposed to do it for weeksI hid behind this door...
Come live with me and be my love,And we will all the pleasures proveThat valleys, groves, hills, and fields,Woods or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the rocks,Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,By shallow rivers to whose fallsMelodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of rosesAnd a thousand fragrant posies,A cap of flowers, and a kirtleEmbroidered all with leaves...
They bear him to his resting-place–In slow procession sweeping by;I follow at a stranger’s space;His kindred they, his sweetheart I.Unchanged my gown of garish dye,Though sable-sad is their attire;But they stand round with griefless eye,Whilst my regret consumes like fire! Thomas Hardy 1840 – 1928 *** Funérailles On l’emporte à son dernier repos,le lent cortège se...