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Thread: A poem a day

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    Quote Originally Posted by loralie View Post
    i have several of mine, but don't know where to post them.
    ok, give me a second.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    The Living Lost

    ------------------------------ by William Cullen Bryant


    Matron! the children of whose love,
    Each to his grave, in youth have passed,
    And now the mould is heaped above
    The dearest and the last!
    Bride! who dost wear the widow's veil
    Before the wedding flowers are pale!
    Ye deem the human heart endures
    No deeper, bitterer grief than yours.

    Yet there are pangs of keener wo,
    Of which the sufferers never speak,
    Nor to the world's cold pity show
    The tears that scald the cheek,
    Wrung from their eyelids by the shame
    And guilt of those they shrink to name,
    Whom once they loved, with cheerful will,
    And love, though fallen and branded, still.

    Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead,
    Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve;
    And graceful are the tears ye shed,
    And honoured ye who grieve.

    The praise of those who sleep in earth,
    The pleasant memory of their worth,
    The hope to meet when life is past,
    Shall heal the tortured mind at last.

    But ye, who for the living lost
    That agony in secret bear,
    Who shall with soothing words accost
    The strength of your despair?
    Grief for your sake is scorn for them
    Whom ye lament and all condemn;
    And o'er the world of spirits lies
    A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    But ye, who for the living lost
    That agony in secret bear,
    Who shall with soothing words accost
    The strength of your despair?
    Grief for your sake is scorn for them
    Whom ye lament and all condemn;
    And o'er the world of spirits lies
    A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.
    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

    Offered as a tribute to this nation(so fitting) , sadly now, being sent to its just reward. -Tyr
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 07-13-2015 at 10:52 PM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    RHYMED DISTICHS.
    ----------------------- by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe



    RHYMED DISTICHS.

    [The Distichs, of which these are given as a
    specimen, are about forty in number.]

    WHO trusts in God,
    Fears not His rod.

    THIS truth may be by all believed:
    Whom God deceives, is well deceived.

    HOW? when? and where?--No answer comes from high;
    Thou wait'st for the Because, and yet thou ask'st not Why?

    IF the whole is ever to gladden thee,
    That whole in the smallest thing thou must see.

    WATER its living strength first shows,
    When obstacles its course oppose.

    TRANSPARENT appears the radiant air,
    Though steel and stone in its breast it may bear;
    At length they'll meet with fiery power,
    And metal and stones on the earth will shower.
    ------
    WHATE'ER a living flame may surround,
    No longer is shapeless, or earthly bound.
    'Tis now invisible, flies from earth,
    And hastens on high to the place of its birth.

    1815.*
    ----------------------------------------------------------------
    Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was born in 1749 in Frankfurt.
    From 1765 to 1771 he studied law in Leibzig and Strasbourg
    on request of his father. During his time at university he
    already earned recognition with his poems and lyric. When
    he returned to Frankfurt he practised law and worked on
    his career as a poet and writer. In 1773 the Götz von
    Berlichingen mit der eisenen Hand was published, making
    Goethe a main representative for the Sturm und Drang
    movement. Getting a lot of attention and recognition by
    the literature world, Goethe is invited to Weimar, where
    he took over many different political offices, but still
    managed to concentrate on writing. Beside his literature
    ambitions, he was also very interested in science, which
    was more important to him, than his writing. From 1786 to
    1790 he travelled through Italy where he undertook more
    scientific researches. In 1794 he befriends Friedrich
    Schiller with whom he developed a new style of writing,
    which is now know as it's own literature epoch, the
    Weimarer Klassik.

    In 1908 Goethe finished Faust, between 1811-14 he wrote
    his autobiography and in 1831 he finished Faust 2, which
    got published posthumously. Goethe used and explored many
    different styles in literature and turned out to be an
    important personality to the world of literature.

    Source: http://www.aboutvienna.org/personalities/goethe.htm
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    A Poison Tree
    -----------------------by William Blake

    I was angry with my friend;
    I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
    I was angry with my foe:
    I told it not, my wrath did grow.

    And I watered it in fears,
    Night & morning with my tears:
    And I sunned it with smiles,
    And with soft deceitful wiles.

    And it grew both day and night,
    Till it bore an apple bright.
    And my foe beheld it shine,
    And he knew that it was mine.

    And into my garden stole.
    When the night had veiled the pole;
    In the morning glad I see,
    My foe outstretched beneath the tree
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    O' the wishful thoughts this poem brings to my mind!-Tyr

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Digging
    ------------------------- by Seamus Heaney


    Between my finger and my thumb
    The squat pin rest; snug as a gun.

    Under my window, a clean rasping sound
    When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
    My father, digging. I look down

    Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
    Bends low, comes up twenty years away
    Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
    Where he was digging.

    The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
    Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
    He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
    To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
    Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

    By God, the old man could handle a spade.
    Just like his old man.

    My grandfather cut more turf in a day
    Than any other man on Toner's bog.
    Once I carried him milk in a bottle
    Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
    To drink it, then fell to right away
    Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
    Over his shoulder, going down and down
    For the good turf. Digging.

    The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
    Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
    Through living roots awaken in my head.
    But I've no spade to follow men like them.

    Between my finger and my thumb
    The squat pen rests.
    I'll dig with it.
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 07-16-2015 at 09:32 AM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    A double today, simply because this poet is in my top ten favorite poets list.
    Both are classed as dark poems, a classification that interests me greatly. -Tyr


    My Soul is Dark
    ------------------- by Lord Byron

    My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string
    The harp I yet can brook to hear;
    And let thy gentle fingers fling
    Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
    If in this heart a hope be dear,
    That sound shall charm it forth again:
    If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
    'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.

    But bid the strain be wild and deep,
    Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
    I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
    Or else this heavy heart will burst;
    For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
    And ached in sleepless silence, long;
    And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
    And break at once - or yield to song.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Darkness
    -------------------------- by Lord Byron


    I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
    The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
    Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
    Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
    Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
    Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,
    And men forgot their passions in the dread
    Of this their desolation; and all hearts
    Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light;
    And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones,
    The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,
    The habitations of all things which dwell,
    Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
    And men were gathered round their blazing homes
    To look once more into each other's face;
    Happy were those which dwelt within the eye
    Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch;
    A fearful hope was all the world contained;
    Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
    They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
    Extinguished with a crash—and all was black.
    The brows of men by the despairing light
    Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
    The flashes fell upon them: some lay down
    And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
    Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
    And others hurried to and fro, and fed
    Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
    With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
    The pall of a past world; and then again
    With curses cast them down upon the dust,
    And gnashed their teeth and howled; the wild birds shrieked,
    And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
    And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
    Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled
    And twined themselves among the multitude,
    Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food;
    And War, which for a moment was no more,
    Did glut himself again;—a meal was bought
    With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
    Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
    All earth was but one thought—and that was death,
    Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
    Of famine fed upon all entrails—men
    Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
    The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
    Even dogs assailed their masters, all save one,
    And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
    The birds and beasts and famished men at bay,
    Till hunger clung them, or the drooping dead
    Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
    But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
    And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
    Which answered not with a caress—he died.
    The crowd was famished by degrees; but two
    Of an enormous city did survive,
    And they were enemies: they met beside
    The dying embers of an altar-place
    Where had been heaped a mass of holy things
    For an unholy usage: they raked up,
    And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
    The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
    Blew for a little life, and made a flame
    Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
    Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
    Each other's aspects—saw, and shrieked, and died—
    Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
    Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
    Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
    The populous and the powerful was a lump,
    Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless—
    A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.
    The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,
    And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
    Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
    And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropped
    They slept on the abyss without a surge—
    The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
    The Moon, their mistress, had expired before;
    The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
    And the clouds perished! Darkness had no need
    Of aid from them—She was the Universe!
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Those Winter Sundays
    ---------------------------by Robert Hayden


    Sundays too my father got up early
    And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
    then with cracked hands that ached
    from labor in the weekday weather made
    banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

    I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
    When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
    and slowly I would rise and dress,
    fearing the chronic angers of that house,

    Speaking indifferently to him,
    who had driven out the cold
    and polished my good shoes as well.
    What did I know, what did I know
    of love's austere and lonely offices?
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    My father did the same and did so with pure love and gentleness. I remember my Dad wearing shoes with holes in the bottom an extra year so we kids could have our new shoes for school. Shaving with no shave cream, going without a heavy winter coat, eating last if any food was left to it, etc. . More sacrifices he made but that only matters to we that benefited, we few that remember what he did as he was old and in bad health.
    Truth is a true father love his children just as much as any mother ever has. I know I do... --Tyr

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    A double presentation today...Tyr

    To Nature
    --------------------------- by Samuel Coleridge


    It may indeed be fantasy when I
    Essay to draw from all created things
    Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
    And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
    Lessons of love and earnest piety.
    So let it be; and if the wide world rings
    In mock of this belief, it brings
    Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.
    So will I build my altar in the fields,
    And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
    And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
    Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
    Thee only God! and thou shalt not despise
    Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice.
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 07-18-2015 at 09:40 AM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Courage
    ------------------------------ by Robert William Service

    Today I opened wide my eyes,
    And stared with wonder and surprise,
    To see beneath November skies
    An apple blossom peer;
    Upon a branch as bleak as night
    It gleamed exultant on my sight,
    A fairy beacon burning bright
    Of hope and cheer.

    "Alas!" said I, "poor foolish thing,
    Have you mistaken this for Spring?
    Behold, the thrush has taken wing,
    And Winter's near."
    Serene it seemed to lift its head:
    "The Winter's wrath I do not dread,
    Because I am," it proudly said,
    "A Pioneer.

    "Some apple blossom must be first,
    With beauty's urgency to burst
    Into a world for joy athirst,
    And so I dare;
    And I shall see what none shall see -
    December skies gloom over me,
    And mock them with my April glee,
    And fearless fare.

    "And I shall hear what none shall hear -
    The hardy robin piping clear,
    The Storm King gallop dark and drear
    Across the sky;
    And I shall know what none shall know -
    The silent kisses of the snow,
    The Christmas candles' silver glow,
    Before I die.

    "Then from your frost-gemmed window pane
    One morning you will look in vain,
    My smile of delicate disdain
    No more to see;
    But though I pass before my time,
    And perish in the grale and grime,
    Maybe you'll have a little rhyme
    To spare for me."

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    So much wisdom in this poem.... -Tyr
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    The Pain of Earth
    ----------------------- by George William Russell

    DOES the earth grow grey with grief
    For her hero darling fled?
    Though her vales let fall no leaf,
    In our hearts her tears are shed.


    Still the stars laugh on above:
    Not to them her grief is said;
    Mourning for her hero love
    In our hearts the tears are shed.


    We her children mourn for him,
    Mourn the elder hero dead;
    In the twilight grey and dim
    In our hearts the tears are shed.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    To the Reader of These Sonnets
    ---------------------------------------- by Michael Drayton


    Into these Loves who but for Passion looks,
    At this first sight here let him lay them by
    And seek elsewhere, in turning other books,
    Which better may his labor satisfy.
    No far-fetch'd sigh shall ever wound my breast,
    Love from mine eye a tear shall never wring,
    Nor in Ah me's my whining sonnets drest;
    A libertine, fantasticly I sing.
    My verse is the true image of my mind,
    Ever in motion, still desiring change,
    And as thus to variety inclin'd,
    So in all humours sportively I range.
    My Muse is rightly of the English strain,
    That cannot long one fashion entertain.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    The River of Life

    ===================== by Thomas Campbell


    The more we live, more brief appear
    Our life's succeeding stages;
    A day to childhood seems a year,
    And years like passing ages.

    The gladsome current of our youth,
    Ere passion yet disorders,
    Steals lingering like a river smooth
    Along its grassy borders.

    But as the careworn cheek grows wan,
    And sorrow's shafts fly thicker,
    Ye stars, that measure life to man,
    Why seem your courses quicker?

    When joys have lost their bloom and breath,
    And life itself is vapid,
    Why, as we reach the Falls of Death
    Feel we its tide more rapid?

    It may be strange—yet who would change
    Time's course to slower speeding,
    When one by one our friends have gone,
    And left our bosoms bleeding?

    Heaven gives our years of fading strength
    Indemnifying fleetness;
    And those of youth, a seeming length,
    Proportion'd to their sweetness.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    So much wisdom in this fine poem by Campbell.. Closing stanza says it all methinks. As I am currently at the age of last standing , I see much more clearly now. -Tyr
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    The Country of the Blind

    --------------------------------by C. S. Lewis


    Hard light bathed them-a whole nation of eyeless men,
    Dark bipeds not aware how they were maimed. A long
    Process, clearly, a slow curse,
    Drained through centuries, left them thus.

    At some transitional stage, then, a luckless few,
    No doubt, must have had eyes after the up-to-date,
    Normal type had achieved snug
    Darkness, safe from the guns of heavn;

    Whose blind mouths would abuse words that belonged to their
    Great-grandsires, unabashed, talking of light in some
    Eunuch'd, etiolated,
    Fungoid sense, as a symbol of

    Abstract thoughts. If a man, one that had eyes, a poor
    Misfit, spoke of the grey dawn or the stars or green-
    Sloped sea waves, or admired how
    Warm tints change in a lady's cheek,

    None complained he had used words from an alien tongue,
    None question'd. It was worse. All would agree 'Of course,'
    Came their answer. "We've all felt
    Just like that." They were wrong. And he


    Knew too much to be clear, could not explain. The words --
    Sold, raped flung to the dogs -- now could avail no more;
    Hence silence. But the mouldwarps,
    With glib confidence, easily

    Showed how tricks of the phrase, sheer metaphors could set
    Fools concocting a myth, taking the worlds for things.
    Do you think this a far-fetched
    Picture? Go then about among

    Men now famous; attempt speech on the truths that once,
    Opaque, carved in divine forms, irremovable,
    Dear but dear as a mountain-
    Mass, stood plain to the inward eye.

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    How did this author know what we would be encountering now?
    Did he have such foresight or divining spirit or just know how history repeats itself because man's arrogance so often knows no bounds? Or perhaps a combination of both
    Last two stanza's pure gold and entire poem is epic and brilliant writing!-Tyr
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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  15. #57
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    Across the Sea Along the Shore
    -------------------------------- by Arthur Hugh Clough

    Across the sea, along the shore,
    In numbers more and ever more,
    From lonely hut and busy town,
    The valley through, the mountain down,
    What was it ye went out to see,
    Ye silly folk Galilee?
    The reed that in the wind doth shake?
    The weed that washes in the lake?
    The reeds that waver, the weeds that float?
    A young man preaching in a boat.
    What was it ye went out to hear
    By sea and land from far and near?
    A teacher? Rather seek the feet
    Of those who sit in Moses' seat.
    Go humbly seek, and bow to them,
    Far off in great Jerusalem.
    From them that in her courts ye saw,
    Her perfect doctors of the law,
    What is it came ye here to note?
    A young man preaching in a boat.

    A prophet! Boys and women weak!
    Declare, or cease to rave;
    Whence is it he hath learned to speak?
    Say, who his doctrine gave?
    A prophet? Prophet wherefore he
    Of all in Israel tribes?
    He teacheth with authority,
    And not as do the Scribes.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Time of Roses
    ------------------------------by Thomas Hood


    It was not in the Winter
    Our loving lot was cast;
    It was the time of roses—
    We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

    That churlish season never frown'd
    On early lovers yet:
    O no—the world was newly crown'd
    With flowers when first we met!

    'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
    But still you held me fast;
    It was the time of roses—
    We pluck'd them as we pass'd!
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    The Gods Of Greece
    -------------------------------------- by Friedrich von Schiller


    Ye in the age gone by,
    Who ruled the world--a world how lovely then!--
    And guided still the steps of happy men
    In the light leading-strings of careless joy!
    Ah, flourished then your service of delight!
    How different, oh, how different, in the day
    When thy sweet fanes with many a wreath were bright,
    O Venus Amathusia!

    Then, through a veil of dreams
    Woven by song, truth's youthful beauty glowed,
    And life's redundant and rejoicing streams
    Gave to the soulless, soul--where'r they flowed
    Man gifted nature with divinity
    To lift and link her to the breast of love;
    All things betrayed to the initiate eye
    The track of gods above!

    Where lifeless--fixed afar,
    A flaming ball to our dull sense is given,
    Phoebus Apollo, in his golden car,
    In silent glory swept the fields of heaven!
    On yonder hill the Oread was adored,
    In yonder tree the Dryad held her home;
    And from her urn the gentle Naiad poured
    The wavelet's silver foam.

    Yon bay, chaste Daphne wreathed,
    Yon stone was mournful Niobe's mute cell,
    Low through yon sedges pastoral Syrinx breathed,
    And through those groves wailed the sweet Philomel,
    The tears of Ceres swelled in yonder rill--
    Tears shed for Proserpine to Hades borne;
    And, for her lost Adonis, yonder hill
    Heard Cytherea mourn!--

    Heaven's shapes were charmed unto
    The mortal race of old Deucalion;
    Pyrrha's fair daughter, humanly to woo,
    Came down, in shepherd-guise, Latona's son
    Between men, heroes, gods, harmonious then
    Love wove sweet links and sympathies divine;
    Blest Amathusia, heroes, gods, and men,
    Equals before thy shrine!

    Not to that culture gay,
    Stern self-denial, or sharp penance wan!
    Well might each heart be happy in that day--
    For gods, the happy ones, were kin to man!
    The beautiful alone the holy there!
    No pleasure shamed the gods of that young race;
    So that the chaste Camoenae favoring were,
    And the subduing grace!

    A palace every shrine;
    Your sports heroic;--yours the crown
    Of contests hallowed to a power divine,
    As rushed the chariots thundering to renown.
    Fair round the altar where the incense breathed,
    Moved your melodious dance inspired; and fair
    Above victorious brows, the garland wreathed
    Sweet leaves round odorous hair!

    The lively Thyrsus-swinger,
    And the wild car the exulting panthers bore,
    Announced the presence of the rapture-bringer--
    Bounded the Satyr and blithe Faun before;
    And Maenads, as the frenzy stung the soul,
    Hymned in their maddening dance, the glorious wine--
    As ever beckoned to the lusty bowl
    The ruddy host divine!

    Before the bed of death
    No ghastly spectre stood--but from the porch
    Of life, the lip--one kiss inhaled the breath,
    And the mute graceful genius lowered a torch.
    The judgment-balance of the realms below,
    A judge, himself of mortal lineage, held;
    The very furies at the Thracian's woe,
    Were moved and music-spelled.

    In the Elysian grove
    The shades renewed the pleasures life held dear:
    The faithful spouse rejoined remembered love,
    And rushed along the meads the charioteer;
    There Linus poured the old accustomed strain;
    Admetus there Alcestis still could greet; his
    Friend there once more Orestes could regain,
    His arrows--Philoctetes!

    More glorious than the meeds
    That in their strife with labor nerved the brave,
    To the great doer of renowned deeds
    The Hebe and the heaven the Thunderer gave.
    Before the rescued rescuer [10] of the dead,
    Bowed down the silent and immortal host;
    And the twain stars [11] their guiding lustre shed,
    On the bark tempest-tossed!

    Art thou, fair world, no more?
    Return, thou virgin-bloom on Nature's face;
    Ah, only on the minstrel's magic shore,
    Can we the footstep of sweet fable trace!
    The meadows mourn for the old hallowing life;
    Vainly we search the earth of gods bereft;
    Where once the warm and living shapes were rife,
    Shadows alone are left!

    Cold, from the north, has gone
    Over the flowers the blast that killed their May;
    And, to enrich the worship of the one,
    A universe of gods must pass away!
    Mourning, I search on yonder starry steeps,
    But thee no more, Selene, there I see!
    And through the woods I call, and o'er the deeps,
    And--Echo answers me!

    Deaf to the joys she gives--
    Blind to the pomp of which she is possessed--
    Unconscious of the spiritual power that lives
    Around, and rules her--by our bliss unblessed--
    Dull to the art that colors or creates,
    Like the dead timepiece, godless nature creeps
    Her plodding round, and, by the leaden weights,
    The slavish motion keeps.

    To-morrow to receive
    New life, she digs her proper grave to-day;
    And icy moons with weary sameness weave
    From their own light their fulness and decay.
    Home to the poet's land the gods are flown,
    Light use in them that later world discerns,
    Which, the diviner leading-strings outgrown,
    On its own axle turns.

    Home! and with them are gone
    The hues they gazed on and the tones they heard;
    Life's beauty and life's melody:--alone
    Broods o'er the desolate void, the lifeless word;
    Yet rescued from time's deluge, still they throng
    Unseen the Pindus they were wont to cherish:
    All, that which gains immortal life in song,
    To mortal life must perish!
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    I have always loved this great poem. Especially this stanza..-Tyr

    Before the bed of death
    No ghastly spectre stood--but from the porch
    Of life, the lip--one kiss inhaled the breath,
    And the mute graceful genius lowered a torch.
    The judgment-balance of the realms below,
    A judge, himself of mortal lineage, held;
    The very furies at the Thracian's woe,
    Were moved and music-spelled.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    WILLIAM WORDSWORTH was born at Cockermouth, Cumberland County, England, April 7, 1770, and he died on April 28, 1850. He was buried by the side of his daughter in the beautiful churchyard of Grasmere.

    His father was law agent to Sir James Lowther, afterward Earl of Lonsdale, but he died when William
    was in his seventh year.


    The poet attended school first at Hawkshead School, then at Cambridge University. William was also
    entered at St. Johns in 1787. Having finished his academical course, Wordsworth, in 1790, in company with
    Mr. Robert James, a fellow-student, made a tour on the continent. With this friend Wordsworth made a
    tour in North Wales the following year, after taking his degree in college. He was again in France
    toward the close of the year 1791, and remained in that country about a twelvemonth. He had hailed
    the French Revolution with feelings of enthusiastic admiration.

    Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive
    But to be young was very heaven.

    A young friend, Raisley Calvert, dying in 1795, left him a sum. A further sum came to him as a part
    of the estate of his father, who died intestate; and with this small competence Wordsworth devoted
    himself to study and seclusion.

    In 1793, in his twenty-third year, he appeared before the world as an author, in "Descriptive Sketches"
    and "The Evening Walk." The sketches were made from his tour in Switzerland with his friend, and the Walk
    was among the mountains of Westmoreland.

    In 1795 Wordsworth and his sister were living at Racedown Lodge, in Somersetshire, where, in 1797,
    they were visited by Coleridge. The meeting was mutually pleasant, and a life-long friendship was the
    result. The intimate relations thus established induced Wordsworth and his sister to change their home
    for a residence near Coleridge, at Alfoxen, near Neither Stowey. In this new home the poet composed
    many of his lighter poems, also the "Borderers," a tragedy, which was rejected by the Covent Garden
    Theatre. In 1797 appeared his "Lyrical Ballads," which also contained Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner."

    In 1798, in company with his sister and Coleridge, he went to Germany, where he spent some time at
    Hamburg, Ratzeburg and Goslar. Returning to England, he took up his residence at Grasmere, in
    Westmoreland. In 1800 he reprinted his "Lyrical Ballads" with some additions, making two volumes.
    Two years later he married Mary Hutchinson, to whom he addressed, the beautiful lines, "She was
    a Phantom of Delight." In 1802, Wordsworth, with his sister and his friend Coleridge, visited Scotland.
    This visit formed one of the most important periods of his literary life, as it led to the composition
    of some of his finest lighter poems. In 1805 he completed the "Prelude, or Growth of my own Mind,
    " a poem written in blank verse, but not published till after the author's death. In the same year
    he also wrote his "Waggoner," but did not publish it till in 1819. At this time he purchased a cottage
    and small estate at the head of Ulleswater, Lord Lonsdale generously assisting him. In 1807 he published
    two volumes of "Poems."

    In the spring of 1813 he removed from Grasmere to Royal Mount, where he remained for the rest of his life, a period of thirty-seven years. Here were passed his brightest days. He enjoyed retirement and almost perfect happiness, as seen in his lines:

    Long have I loved what I behold,
    The night that calms, the day that cheers;
    The common growth of mother-earth
    Suffices me--her tears, her mirth,
    Her humblest mirth and tears.

    The dragon's wing, the magic ring,
    I shall not covet for my dower,
    If I along that lowly way
    With sympathetic heart may stray,
    And with a soul of power.

    At the same time he commenced to write poems of a higher order, thus greatly extending the circle of
    his admirers. In 1814 he published "The Excursion," a philosophical poem in blank verse. By viewing man in connection with external nature, the poet blends his metaphysics with pictures of life and scenery. To build up and strengthen the powers of the mind, in contrast to the operations of sense, was ever his object. Like Bacon, Wordsworth would rather have believed all the fables in the Talmud and Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind--or that mind does not, by its external symbols, speak to the human heart. He lived under the habitual away of nature:

    To me the meanest flower that blows can, give
    Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

    The removal of the poet to Rydal was marked by an incident of considerable importance in his personal
    history. Through the influence of the Earl of Lonsdale, he was appointed distributor of stamps in the
    county of Westmoreland, which added greatly to his income without engrossing all of his time. He was
    now placed beyond the frowns of Fortune--if Fortune can ever be said to have frowned on one so independent of her smiles. The subsequent works of the poet were numerous--"The White Doe of Rylstone," a romantic narrative poem, yet colored with his peculiar genius; "Sonnets on the River Duddon" "The Waggoner;" "Peter Bell;" "Ecclesiastical Sketches;" "Yarrow Revisited," and others. His fame was extending rapidly. The universities of Durham and Oxford conferred academic honors upon him. Upon the death of his friend Southey, in 1843, he was made Poet Laureate of England, and the crown gave him a pension of per annum. Thus his income was increased and honors were showered upon him, making glad the closing years of his life. But sadness found its way into his household in 1847, caused by the death of his only daughter, Dora, then Mrs. Quillinan. Wordsworth survived the shock but three years, having reached the advanced age of eighty, always enjoying robust health and writing his poems in the open air. He died in 1850, on the anniversary of St. George, the patron saint of England.

    Lines Written In Early Spring
    ------------------------------------------------- by William Wordsworth


    I heard a thousand blended notes,
    While in a grove I sate reclined,
    In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
    Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

    To her fair works did Nature link
    The human soul that through me ran;
    And much it grieved my heart to think
    What man has made of man.

    Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
    The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
    And 'tis my faith that every flower
    Enjoys the air it breathes.

    The birds around me hopped and played,
    Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
    But the least motion which they made
    It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

    The budding twigs spread out their fan,
    To catch the breezy air;
    And I must think, do all I can,
    That there was pleasure there.

    If this belief from heaven be sent,
    If such be Nature's holy plan,
    Have I not reason to lament
    What man has made of man?
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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