segunda-feira, 22 de maio de 2017

When Lovely Woman - Phoebe Cary

       








When Lovely Woman - Phoebe Cary

When lovely woman wants a favor,
And finds, too late, that man won't bend,
What earthly circumstance can save her
From disappointment in the end?

The only way to bring him over,
The last experiment to try,
Whether a husband or a lover,
If he have feeling, is, to cry!







Barbara Frietchie - John Greenleaf Whittier

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple- and peach-tree fruited deep,

Fair as a garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain wall,—

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.

“Halt!”— the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
“Fire!”— out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;

She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country’s flag,” she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman’s deed and word:

“Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on!” he said.

All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet:

All day long that free flag tost
Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night.

Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er,
And the Rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!

Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town!





The Beginning of Summer Juyi Bai 白居易






When Earth's Last Picture is Painted - Rudyard Kipling

When Earth's last picture is painted
And the tubes are twisted and dried
When the oldest colors have faded
And the youngest critic has died
We shall rest, and faith, we shall need it
Lie down for an aeon or two
'Till the Master of all good workmen
Shall put us to work anew
And those that were good shall be happy
They'll sit in a golden chair
They'll splash at a ten league canvas
With brushes of comet's hair
They'll find real saints to draw from
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul
They'll work for an age at a sitting
And never be tired at all.
And only the Master shall praise us.
And only the Master shall blame.
And no one will work for the money.
No one will work for the fame.
But each for the joy of the working,
And each, in his separate star,
Will draw the thing as he sees it.
For the God of things as they are!







A White Rose John Boyle O'Reilly






The War Films - Sir Henry Newbolt

O living pictures of the dead,
O songs without a sound,
O fellowship whose phantom tread
Hallows a phantom ground—
How in a gleam have these revealed
The faith we had not found.

We have sought God in a cloudy Heaven,
We have passed by God on earth:
His seven sins and his sorrows seven,
His wayworn mood and mirth,
Like a ragged cloak have hid from us
The secret of his birth.

Brother of men, when now I see
The lads go forth in line,
Thou knowest my heart is hungry in me
As for thy bread and wine;
Thou knowest my heart is bowed in me
To take their death for mine.















To a Distant Friend - William Wordsworth

WHY art thou silent? Is thy love a plant
Of such weak fibre that the treacherous air
Of absence withers what was once so fair?
Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant?

Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilant,        5
Bound to thy service with unceasing care—
The mind’s least generous wish a mendicant
For nought but what thy happiness could spare.

Speak!—though this soft warm heart, once free to hold
A thousand tender pleasures, thine and mine,        10
Be left more desolate, more dreary cold

Than a forsaken bird’s-nest fill’d with snow
’Mid its own bush of leafless eglantine—
Speak, that my torturing doubts their end may know!




















Song of Myself - Section 17 - Walt Whitman

These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,
If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing,
If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing,
If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.

This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This the common air that bathes the globe.







Sussex Rudyard Kipling






Song from “Mater” - Percy MacKaye

LONG ago, in the young moonlight,
  I lost my heart to a hero;
Strong and tender and stern and right,
    Darker than night,
  And terribler than Nero.        5
  Heigh, but he was dear, O!

And there, to bind our fellowship,
  I laughed at him; and a moment after,
I laughed again till he bit his lip,
  For the test of love is laughter.        10

“Lord and master, look up!” I cried;
  “I wreathe your brow with a laurel!
Gloom and wisdom and right and pride
    Cast them aside,
  And kiss, and cure our quarrel.        15
  Never mind the moral!”

Alas! with strange and saddened eyes
  He looked on me; and my mirth grew dafter,
To feel the flush of his dark surprise;
  For the zest of love is laughter.        20

Long ago, in the old moonlight,
  I lost my hero and lover;
Strong and tender and stern and right,
    Never shall night
  Nor day his brow uncover.        25
  Ah, my heart, that is over!

Yet still, for joy of the fellowship
  That bound us both through the years long after,
I laugh to think how he bit his lip;
    For the test of love—        30
  And the best of love—is laughter.
















Remorseful Apology - Robert Burns

The friend whom, wild from Wisdom's way,
The fumes of wine infuriate send,
(Not moony madness more astray)
Who but deplores that hapless friend?

Mine was th' insensate frenzied part,
Ah! why should I such scenes outlive?
Scenes so abhorrent to my heart!-
'Tis thine to pity and forgive.
















The Lockless Door - Robert Frost

IT went many years,
But at last came a knock,
And I thought of the door
With no lock to lock.

I blew out the light,
I tip-toed the floor,
And raised both hands
In prayer to the door.

But the knock came again
My window was wide;
I climbed on the sill
And descended outside.

Back over the sill
I bade a “Come in”
To whoever the knock
At the door may have been.

So at a knock
I emptied my cage
To hide in the world
And alter with age.








Mithridates Ralph Waldo Emerson









Lazy Man's Song - Juyi Bai 白居易

  I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it;
    I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it.
    My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it.
    My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them.
    I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink;
    So it's just the same as if my cellar were empty.
    I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play;
    So it's just the same as if it had no strings.
    My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house;
    I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind.
    My friends and relatives write me long letters;
    I should like to read them, but they're such a bother
        to open.
    I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh1
    Passed his whole life in absolute idleness.
    But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals,
    So even he was not so lazy as I.

















The Ivy Green - Charles Dickens

Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green,
That creepeth o’er ruins old!
Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,
In his cell so lone and cold.
The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed,
To pleasure his dainty whim:
And the mouldering dust that years have made
Is a merry meal for him.
Creeping where no life is seen,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings,
And a staunch old heart has he.
How closely he twineth, how tight he clings,
To his friend the huge Oak Tree!
And slily he traileth along the ground,
And his leaves he gently waves,
As he joyously hugs and crawleth round
The rich mould of dead men’s graves.
Creeping where grim death has been,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

Whole ages have fled and their works decayed,
And nations have scattered been;
But the stout old Ivy shall never fade,
From its hale and hearty green.
The brave old plant, in its lonely days,
Shall fatten upon the past:
For the stateliest building man can raise,
Is the Ivy’s food at last.
Creeping on, where time has been,
A rare old plant is the Ivy green.







Johnny's His'try Lesson Nixon Waterman







Dream-Land - Christina Rossetti

Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.

She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.

Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.

Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.





The Garden of Proserpine Algernon Charles Swinburne







Christmas: 1915 - Percy MacKaye

Now is the midnight of the nations: dark
    Even as death, beside her blood-dark seas,
    Earth, like a mother in birth agonies,
Screams in her travail, and the planets hark
Her million-throated terror. Naked, stark,
    Her torso writhes enormous, and her knees
    Shudder against the shadowed Pleiades
Wrenching the night’s imponderable arc.
 
Christ! What shall be delivered to the morn
    Out of these pangs, if ever indeed another
    Morn shall succeed this night, or this vast mother
Survive to know the blood-spent offspring, torn
    From her racked flesh?—What splendour from the smother?
What new-wing’d world, or mangled god still-born?











At the Club - Richard Hovey

When a pretty maiden passes
By the window down the street,
Cards and billiards lose their sweet;
Conversation on old brasses
Languishes; up go the glasses:-
'Nice complexion!' 'Dainty feet!'
When a pretty maiden passes
By the window down the street.

Smith forgets the 'toiling masses,'
Robinson, the fall in wheat;
All the club is indiscret.
Ah, the wisest men are asses
When a pretty maiden passes
By the window down the street!














Short Poetry Collection 041




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Planta - Atividades Educativas para crianças

O Alienista PDF

São Paulo - Conheça seu Estado (História e Geografia)

As comunidades quilombolas no estado de São Paulo na atualidade

Teatro Amazonas - Manaus - Amazonas AM - Brasil

O relevo do estado de São Paulo

São Paulo - Conheça seu Estado (História e Geografia)

Mato Grosso do Sul - Conheça seu Estado (História e Geografia)

Atividades extrativistas do Mato Grosso do Sul

Body Like A Back Road - Sam Hunt

Aldeia Tuyuka - Manaus - Amazonas AM - Brasil

Malibu - Miley Cyrus

Quincas Borba

Dom Casmurro

Esaú e Jacó

Salmos

Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas

Versos íntimos

Busque Amor Novas Artes, Novo Engenho

Siderações

A canção do africano

Agonia de um filósofo

Languidez

Velhas Árvores - Olavo Bilac

Marabá - Gonçalves Dias

Fim - Mário de Sá-Carneiro

Sonnet 18 - William Shakespeare

Vos Que, Dolhos Suaves e Serenos

Bandido negro - Os Escravos - Castro Alves

As cismas do destino - Augusto dos Anjos - Eu e Outras Poesia



Livros em PDF para Download

Anne Frank PDF

anne frank pdf

biblia pdf

Bíblia Sagrada - João Ferreira de Almeida - Bíblia

Bíblia Sagrada - Católica

Just Go #JustGo - Viagem Volta ao Mundo - Sanderlei Silveira

Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental - Aprendendo sobre o Dinheiro

PDF

Sanderlei Silveira

Sanderlei

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Biblia Online

Bíblia Online

Sanderlei Silveira

Sanderlei Silveira

Sanderlei Silveira

Sanderlei Silveira

Sanderlei Silveira

Lista de BLOGs by Sanderlei Silveira



The Cold Heaven - William Butler Yeats

As festas populares em Santa Catarina SC

Áreas de preservação no estado de São Paulo SP

Os símbolos do estado do Rio de Janeiro RJ

A Guerra do Contestado PR

Pantanal – Patrimônio Natural da Humanidade MS

Assalto - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Amor é fogo que arde sem se ver - Poesia

O navio negreiro - Poesia

Mitologia Grega

Antífona - Poema, Poesia

OPEP seguiu cumprindo acordo de redução de oferta de petróleo

Despacito letra e Tradução

Ursa Maior - Macunaíma - Mário de Andrade

Salmos - Capítulo 22 - Bíblia Online

Mercado Municipal Adolpho Lisboa - Manaus - Amazonas AM - Brasil

Mein Kampf PDF

Romeo and Juliet - William Shakespeare - AudioBook

Budismo moderno

The Second Coming - William Butler Yeats

The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost

Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe Shelley

Curso de Espanhol Online - Gratis e Completo

Artur de Azevedo - Contos

Audio Livro - Sanderlei

Contos de Eça de Queirós

Curso de Inglês Online - Gratis e Completo

Diva - José de Alencar - Audiobook

Educação Infantil - Nível 1 (crianças entre 4 a 6 anos)

Educação Infantil - Nível 2 (crianças entre 5 a 7 anos)

Educação Infantil - Nível 3 (crianças entre 6 a 8 anos)

Educação Infantil - Nível 4 (crianças entre 7 a 9 anos)

Educação Infantil - Nível 5 (crianças entre 8 a 10 anos)

Educação Infantil - Nível 6 (crianças entre 9 a 11 anos)

Euclides da Cunha - Os Sertões (Áudio Livro)

Historia en 1 Minuto

History in 1 Minute

Lima Barreto - Contos (Áudio Livro - Audiobook)

Livros em PDF para Download (Domínio Público) - Sanderlei

Machado de Assis

A Mão e a Luva - Machado de Assis

Crônica - Machado de Assis

Dom Casmurro - Machado de Assis

Esaú e Jacó - Machado de Assis

Helena - Machado de Assis

Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas - Machado de Assis

Papéis Avulsos - Machado de Assis

Poesia - Machado de Assis

Quincas Borba - Machado de Assis

Teatro - Machado de Assis

O Diário de Anne Frank

SAP - Course Free Online

Totvs - Datasul - Treinamento Online (Gratuito)


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