Poetry
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by:
Laura Chandler
A JOLLY BOOK How can they put in black and whiteWhat little children think at night,When lights are out and prayers are said,And you are all tucked up in bed? Such funny dreams go dancing throughYour head, of things nobody knew,Or saw, or ever half believes!—They're all inside these singing leaves. And little children laugh and goA-ring-a-round-a-rosy-O;And birds sing gay—you'd almost...
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by:
Stephen Hawes
The prologue THe prudent problems / & the noble werkes Of the gentyll poetes in olde antyquyte Vnto this day hath made famous clerkes For the poetes Wrote nothynge in vanyte But grounded them on good moralyte Encensynge out the fayre dulcet fume Our langage rude to exyle and consume The ryght eloquent poete and monke of bery Made many fayre bookes / as it is probable From ydle derkenes / to...
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A Hero and A Great Man They say knowledge is power.Power walks with ambition.Ambition will devourA man without vision. Through a turbid town,A great man walks.Through a troubled town,A great man talks. He tells tales of bravery.On attention he feeds.With speech most savoryHe boasts of great deeds. He is well respected.He enjoys much recognition.He hopes to be selectedFor a prestigious position. He...
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WHEN YOU KNOW A FELLOW When you get to know a fellow, know his joys and know his cares, When you've come to understand him and the burdens that he bears, When you've learned the fight he's making and the troubles in his way, Then you find that he is different than you thought him yesterday. You find his faults are trivial and there's not...
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A FATHER OF WOMEN Ad Sororem E. B. “Thy father was transfused into thy blood.” Dryden: Ode to Mrs. Anne Killigrew. Our father works in us,The daughters of his manhood. Not undoneIs he, not wasted, though transmuted thus, And though he left no son. Therefore on him I cryTo arm me: “For my delicate mind a casque,A breastplate for my heart, courage to...
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ON LOVE What is love? Ask him who lives, what is life? ask him who adores, what is God? I know not the internal constitution of other men, nor even thine, whom I now address. I see that in some external attributes they resemble me, but when, misled by that appearance, I have thought to appeal to something in common, and unburthen my inmost soul to them, I have found my language misunderstood, like one...
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A Defective Santa Claus Allus when our Pa he's away Nen Uncle Sidney comes to stay At our house here—so Ma an' me An' Etty an' Lee-Bob won't be Afeard ef anything at night Might happen—like Ma says it might. (Ef Trip wuz big, I bet you he 'Uz best watch-dog you ever see!) An' so last winter—ist before It's go' be Chris'mus-Day,—w'y, shore...
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IA month without sight of the sunRising or reigning or settingThrough days without use of the day,Who calls it the month of May?The sense of the name is undoneAnd the sound of it fit for forgetting.We shall not feel if the sun rise,We shall not care when it sets:If a nightingale make night's airAs noontide, why should we care?Till a light of delight that is done rise,Extinguishing grey...
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by:
Alfred Gurney
YULE TIDE. TheRoyal Birthday dawns again,A stricken world to bless;And sufferers forget their pain,And mourners their distress. Love sings to-day; her eyes so fairWith happy tears are wet;She is too humble to despair,Too faithful to forget. Her voice is very soft and sweet,Her heart is brave and strong;Her vassal, I would fain repeatSome fragments of her song. A Birthday-song my heart would singIts...
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TO OUR MOTHERSOurs the Great Adventure,Yours the pain to bear,Ours the golden service stripes,Yours the marks of care.If all the Great AdventureThe old Earth ever knew,Was ours and in this little book'Twould still belong to you!These Sketches were made during a year's service as a camion driver with the French army in the Chemin-des-Dames sector and a year's service with the A.E.F. as an...
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