sexta-feira, 12 de maio de 2017

When We Are Parted - Hamilton Aïdé


When We Are Parted - Hamilton Aïdé

WHEN we are parted let me lie
  In some far corner of thy heart,
  Silent, and from the world apart,
Like a forgotten melody:
Forgotten of the world beside,        5
  Cherish’d by one, and one alone,
  For some lov’d memory of its own;
So let me in thy heart abide
          When we are parted.

When we are parted, keep for me        10
  The sacred stillness of the night;
  That hour, sweet Love, is mine by right;
Let others claim the day of thee!
The cold world sleeping at our feet,
  My spirit shall discourse with thine;—        15
  When stars upon thy pillow shine,
At thy heart’s door I stand and beat,
      Though we are parted.

Upon the Banks O Flowing Clyde - William Reid

To Those Who've Fail'd - Walt Whitman

To those who've fail'd, in aspiration vast,
To unnam'd soldiers fallen in front on the lead,
To calm, devoted engineers—to over-ardent travelers—to pilots
on their ships,
To many a lofty song and picture without recognition—I'd rear
a laurel-cover'd monument,
High, high above the rest—To all cut off before their time,
Possess'd by some strange spirit of fire,
Quench'd by an early death.

The Long-Nosed Fair - Christopher Smart

Once on a time I fair Dorinda kiss'd,
Whose nose was too distinguish'd to be miss'd;
My dear, says I, I fain would kiss you closer,
But tho' your lips say aye--your nose says, no, Sir.--
The maid was equally to fun inclin'd,
And plac'd her lovely lily-hand behind;
Here, swain, she cry'd, may'st thou securely kiss,
Where there's no nose to interrupt thy bliss.

Lone Dog - Irene Rutherford McLeod

I'M a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone;
I'm a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own;
I'm a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep;
I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep.
I'll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet,         5
A sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat,
Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate,
But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff and kick, and hate.
Not for me the other dogs, running by my side,
Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide.  10
O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best,
Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest!

Interlude - Edith Sitwell

Amid this hot green glowing gloom
A word falls with a raindrop’s boom...
Like baskets of ripe fruit in air
The bird-songs seem, suspended where
Those goldfinches—the ripe warm lights        
Peck slyly at them—take quick flights.
My feet are feathered like a bird
Among the shadows scarcely heard;
I bring you branches green with dew
And fruits that you may crown anew
Your whirring waspish-gilded hair
Amid this cornucopia—
Until your warm lips bear the stains
And bird-blood leap within your veins.

I Come Singing - Jacob Auslander

I COME singing the keen sweet smell of grass
Cut after rain,
And the cool ripple of drops that pass
Over the grain,
And the drenched light drifting across the plain.        5

I come chanting the mad bloom of the fall.
And the swallows
Rallying in clans to the rapid call
From the hollows,
And the wet west wind swooping down on the swallows.        10

I come shrilling the sharp white of December,
The night like. quick steel
Swung by a gust in its plunge through the pallid ember
Of dusk, and the heel
Of the fierce green dark grinding the stars like steel.

Song of Myself - Section 20 Walt Whitman
Song of Myself - Section 20 Walt Whitman
Song of Myself - Section 25 Walt Whitman

Song of Myself - Section 34 Walt Whitman

The Height of the Ridiculous - Oliver Wendell Holmes

I WROTE some lines once on a time
    In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say
    They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer,        5
    I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way,
    A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came;
    How kind it was of him        10
To mind a slender man like me,
    He of the mighty limb.

“These to the printer,” I exclaimed,
    And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest,)        15
    “There ’ll be the devil to pay.”

He took the paper, and I watched,
    And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
    Was all upon the grin.        20

He read the next; the grin grew broad,
    And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third; a chuckling noise
    I now began to hear.

The fourth; he broke into a roar;        25
    The fifth; his waistband split;
The sixth; he burst five buttons off,
    And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye,
    I watched that wretched man,        30
And since, I never dare to write
    As funny as I can.

He Mourns For The Change That Has Come Upon Him And His Beloved, And Longs For The End Of The World William Butler Yeats

Country Road - Marie Louise Hersey

I CAN’T forget a gaunt grey barn
  Like a face without an eye
That kept recurring by field and tarn
  Under a Cape Cod sky.

I can’t forget a woman’s hand,        5
  Roughened and scarred by toil
That beckoned clear-eyed children tanned
  By sun and wind and soil.

Beauty and hardship, bent and bound
  Under the selfsame yoke:        10
Babies with bare knees plump and round
  And stooping women folk.

Care-charmer sleep - Samuel Daniel

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born:
Relieve my languish, and restore the light,
With dark forgetting of my cares, return;
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventur'd youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease dreams, th' imagery of our day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow.
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain;
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

The Builder - Willard Wattles

SMOOTHING a cypress beam
    With a scarred hand,
I saw a carpenter
    In a far land.
Down past the flat roofs         5
    Poured the white sun;
But still he bent his back,
    The patient one.
And I paused surprised
    In that queer place  10
To find an old man
    With a haunting face.
"Who art thou, carpenter,
    Of the bowed head;
And what buildest thou?"  15
    "Heaven," he said.

Short Poetry Collection 058

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