Sunday, November 20, 2016

Henry Lawson - The Wantaritencant

       




Henry Lawson - The Wantaritencant

It watched me in the cradle laid, and from my boyhood’s home
It glared above my shoulder-blade when I wrote my first “pome”;
It’s sidled by me ever since, with greeny eyes aslant—
It is the thing (O, Priest and Prince!) that wants to write, but can’t.

It yells and slobbers, mows and whines, It follows everywhere;
’Tis gloating on these very lines with red and baleful glare.
It murders friendship, love and truth (It makes the “reader” pant),
It ruins editorial youth, the Wantaritencant.

Its slime is ever on my work, and ever on my name;
No toil nor trouble does It shirk—for It will write, all the same!
It tantalized when great thoughts burned, in trouble and in want;
It makes it hell for all concerned, the Wantaritencant.

And now that I would gladly die, or rest my weary mind,
I cannot rest to think that I must leave the Thing behind.
Its green rot damns the dead, for sure—that greatest curse extant,
’Twill kill Australian literature, the Wantaritencant!

You cannot kill or keep It still, or ease It off a bit;
It talks about Itself until the world believes in It.
It is a Scare, a Fright, a Ghast, a Gibber, and a Rant,
A future Horror and a Past, the Wantaritencant!







Anonymous-Two-Little-Shadows

Anonymous - Two Little Shadows

I saw a young mother
With eyes full of laughter
And two little shadows
Came following after.

Wherever she moved,
They were always right there
Holding onto her skirts,
Hanging onto her chair.
Before her, behind her -
An adhesive pair.

'Don't you ever get weary
As, day after day,
your two little tagalongs
Get in your way? '

She smiled as she shook
Her pretty young head,
And I'll always remember
The words that she said.

'It's good to have shadows
That run when you run,
That laugh when you're happy
And hum when you hum -
For you only have shadows

When your life's filled with sun.'











James-Weldon-Johnson-To-America

James Weldon Johnson - To America

How would you have us, as we are?
Or sinking ‘neath the load we bear?
Our eyes fixed forward on a star?
Or gazing empty at despair?

Rising or falling? Men or things?
With dragging pace or footsteps fleet?
Strong, willing sinews in your wings?
Or tightening chains about your feet?










Jasper-Mayne-Time

Jasper Mayne - Time

TIME is the feather'd thing,
    And, whilst I praise
The sparklings of thy looks and call them rays,
              Takes wing,
    Leaving behind him as he flies        
An unperceivèd dimness in thine eyes.
    His minutes, whilst they're told,
        Do make us old;
    And every sand of his fleet glass,
    Increasing age as it doth pass,
    Insensibly sows wrinkles there
    Where flowers and roses do appear.
    Whilst we do speak, our fire
    Doth into ice expire,
        Flames turn to frost;
        And ere we can
    Know how our crow turns swan,
    Or how a silver snow
    Springs there where jet did grow,
Our fading spring is in dull winter lost.
    Since then the Night hath hurl'd
        Darkness, Love's shade,
    Over its enemy the Day, and made
             The world
    Just such a blind and shapeless thing
As 'twas before light did from darkness spring,
    Let us employ its treasure
    And make shade pleasure:
Let 's number out the hours by blisses,
And count the minutes by our kisses;
    Let the heavens new motions feel
    And by our embraces wheel;
    And whilst we try the way
    By which Love doth convey
        Soul unto soul,  35
        And mingling so
    Makes them such raptures know
    As makes them entrancèd lie
        In mutual ecstasy,
Let the harmonious spheres in music roll!











Wallace-Stevens-Thirteen-Ways-of-Looking-at-a-Blackbird

Wallace Stevens - Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

I
Among twenty snowy mountains,  
The only moving thing  
Was the eye of the blackbird.  

II
I was of three minds,  
Like a tree  
In which there are three blackbirds.  

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.  
It was a small part of the pantomime.  

IV
A man and a woman  
Are one.  
A man and a woman and a blackbird  
Are one.  

V
I do not know which to prefer,  
The beauty of inflections  
Or the beauty of innuendoes,  
The blackbird whistling  
Or just after.  

VI
Icicles filled the long window  
With barbaric glass.  
The shadow of the blackbird  
Crossed it, to and fro.  
The mood  
Traced in the shadow  
An indecipherable cause.  

VII
O thin men of Haddam,  
Why do you imagine golden birds?  
Do you not see how the blackbird  
Walks around the feet  
Of the women about you?  

VIII
I know noble accents  
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;  
But I know, too,  
That the blackbird is involved  
In what I know.  

IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,  
It marked the edge  
Of one of many circles.  

X
At the sight of blackbirds  
Flying in a green light,  
Even the bawds of euphony  
Would cry out sharply.  

XI
He rode over Connecticut  
In a glass coach.  
Once, a fear pierced him,  
In that he mistook  
The shadow of his equipage  
For blackbirds.  

XII
The river is moving.  
The blackbird must be flying.  

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.  
It was snowing  
And it was going to snow.  
The blackbird sat  
In the cedar-limbs.












Thomas-Wyatt-They-Flee-From-Me

Thomas Wyatt - They Flee From Me

They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.

Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, “Dear heart, how like you this?”

It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
But all is turned thorough my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also, to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindly am served
I would fain know what she hath deserved.










Anonymous-Sir-Patrick-Spens

Anonymous - Sir Patrick Spens

The king sits in Dunfermline toune
drinking the blude reid wine,
"O whar will I get guid sailor,
To sail this schip of mine?"

Up and spak an eldern knicht,
Sat at the kings richt kne:
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That sails upon the se."

The king has written a braid letter,
And signed it wi his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the sand.

To Noroway! to Noroway!
to Noroway oer the faem!
The king's daughter to Noroway
'Tis thou maun tak' her hame.

The first line that Sir Patrick red,
A loud lauch lauched he;
The next line that Sir Patrick red,
The teir blinded his ee.

"O wha is this has don this deid,
This ill deid don to me,
To send me out this time o' the yeir,
To sail upon the se!

"Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,
Our guid schip sails the morne":
"O say na sae, my master deir,
For I feir a deadlie storme.

"Laie late yestreen I saw the new moone,
Wi the auld moone in her arme,
And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
That we will cum to harme."

O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
To weet their cork-heild schoone;
Bot land owre a' the play wer playd,
Thair hats they swam aboone.

O lang, lang may the ladies sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand
Or ere they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the strand.

O lang, lang may the ladies stand,
Wi thair gold kems in their hair,
Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
For they'll se thame na mair.

Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,
It's fiftie fadom deip,
And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi the Scots lords at his feit.






Rudyard-Kipling-The-Reeds-of-Runnymede

Rudyard Kipling - The Reeds of Runnymede

(MAGNA CHARTA, JUNE 15, 1215)

AT Runnymede, at Runnymede
What say the reeds at Runnymede?
The lissom reeds that give and take,
That bend so far, but never break,
They keep the sleepy Thames awake
With tales of John at Runnymede.

At Runnymede, at Runnymede,
Oh, hear the reeds at Runnymede:--
"You mustn't sell, delay, deny,
A freeman's right or liberty.
It makes the stubborn Englishry,
We saw 'em roused at Runnymede!

"When through our ranks the Barons came,
With little thought of praise or blame,
But resolute to play the game,
They lumbered up to Runnymede;
And there they launched in solid time
The first attack on Right Divine--
The curt, uncompromising 'Sign!'
That settled John at Runnymede.

"At Runnymede, at Runnymede,
Your rights were won at Runnymede!
No freeman shall be fined or bound,
Or dispossessed of freehold ground,
Except by lawful judgment found
And passed upon him by his peers.
Forget not, after all these years,
The Charter Signed at Runnymede."

And still when Mob or Monarch lays
Too rude a hand on English ways,
The whisper wakes, the shudder plays,
Across the reeds at Runnymede.
And Thames, that knows the moods of kings,
And crowds and priests and suchlike things,
Rolls deep and dreadful as he brings
Their warning down from Runnymede!








Ellis-Parker-Butler-A-Question

Ellis Parker Butler - A Question

Whene'er I feed the barnyard folk
    My gentle soul is vexed;
My sensibilities are torn
    And I am sore perplexed.

The rooster so politely stands
    While waiting for his food,
But when I feed him, what a change!
    He then is rough and rude.

He crowds his gentle wives aside
    Or pecks them on the head;
Sometimes I think it would be best
    If he were never fed.

And so I often stand for hours
    Deciding which is right --
To impolitely have enough,
    Or starve and be polite.








William-Davenant-Praise-and-Prayer

William Davenant - Praise and Prayer

PRAISE is devotion fit for mighty minds,
  The diff'ring world's agreeing sacrifice;
Where Heaven divided faiths united finds:
  But Prayer in various discord upward flies.

For Prayer the ocean is where diversely        
  Men steer their course, each to a sev'ral coast;
Where all our interests so discordant be
  That half beg winds by which the rest are lost.

By Penitence when we ourselves forsake,
'Tis but in wise design on piteous Heaven;
In Praise we nobly give what God may take,
  And are, without a beggar's blush, forgiven.






Wallace-Stevens-Peter-Quince-at-the-Clavier

Wallace Stevens - Peter Quince at the Clavier

  I
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the selfsame sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.

Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,

Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,
Is music. It is like the strain
Waked in the elders by Susanna:

Of a green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in her still garden, while
The red-eyed elders, watching, felt

The basses of their beings throb
In witching chords, and their thin blood
Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.


                                              II
In the green water, clear and warm,
Susanna lay.
She searched
The touch of springs,
And found
Concealed imaginings.
She sighed,
For so much melody.

Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves,
The dew
Of old devotions.

She walked upon the grass,
Still quavering.
The winds were like her maids,
On timid feet,
Fetching her woven scarves,
Yet wavering.

A breath upon her hand
Muted the night.
She turned—
A cymbal crashed,
And roaring horns.


                                           III
Soon, with a noise like tambourines,
Came her attendant Byzantines.

They wondered why Susanna cried
Against the elders by her side;

And as they whispered, the refrain
Was like a willow swept by rain.

Anon, their lamps' uplifted flame
Revealed Susanna and her shame.

And then, the simpering Byzantines
Fled, with a noise like tambourines.


                                             IV
Beauty is momentary in the mind—
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.

The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
So gardens die, their meek breath scenting
The cowl of winter, done repenting.
So maidens die, to the auroral
Celebration of a maiden's choral.

Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
Left only Death's ironic scraping.
Now, in its immortality, it plays
On the clear viol of her memory,
And makes a constant sacrament of praise.









Thomas-Carew-Persuasions-to-Joy-a-Song

Thomas Carew - Persuasions to Joy - a Song

IF the quick spirits in your eye
    Now languish and anon must die ;
If every sweet and every grace
Must fly from that forsaken face ;
    Then, Celia, let us reap our joys
    Ere time such goodly fruit destroys.

Or, if that golden fleece must grow
    For ever free from aged snow ;
If those bright suns must know no shade,
Nor your fresh beauties ever fade ;
Then fear not, Celia, to bestow
What, still being gather'd, still must grow.
    Thus, either Time his sickle brings
    In vain, or else in vain his wings.









Louisa-May-Alcott-Im-an-Old-Black-Kettle

Louisa May Alcott - I’m an Old Black Kettle


I'm an old black kettle,
   With a very crooked nose,
But I can't help being gay
   When the jolly fire glows.

I'm everybody's servant,
   There's no end to my toil,
And all my days are spent
   In an everlasting boil.

In my smoky corner here
   No holidays I see,
Yet all Christmas feasts
   Were spoiled without me.

So contentedly I work,
   And hope yet to be told
I'm a good and faithful kettle,
   Though ugly, black, and old.
















Ellis-Parker-Butler-Night-in-the-City

Ellis Parker Butler - Night in the City

The sluggish clouds hang low upon the town,
And from yon lamp in chilled and sodden rays
The feeble light gropes through the heavy mist
And dies, extinguished in the stagnant maze.

From moisty eaves the drops fall slowly down
To strike with leaden sound the walk below,
And in dark, murky pools upon the street
The water stands, as lacking life to flow.

With hopeless brain, oppressed and sad at heart,
Toil's careworn slave turns out his flickering light
And treads in dreams his dulling round again,
Where weary day succeeds to dismal night.













Constance-Naden-Natural-Selection

Constance Naden - Natural Selection


I HAD found out a gift for my fair,
  I had found where the cave men were laid:
Skulls, femur and pelvis were there,
  And spears that of silex they made.

But he ne’er could be true, she averred,      
  Who would dig up an ancestor’s grave—
And I loved her the more when I heard
  Such foolish regard for the cave.

My shelves they are furnished with stones,
  All sorted and labelled with care;      
And a splendid collection of bones,
  Each one of them ancient and rare;

One would think she might like to retire
  To my study—she calls it a “hole”!
Not a fossil I heard her admire      
  But I begged it, or borrowed, or stole.

But there comes an idealess lad,
  With a strut and a stare and a smirk;
And I watch, scientific, though sad,
  The Law of Selection at work.      

Of Science he had not a trace,
  He seeks not the How and the Why,
But he sings with an amateur’s grace,
  And he dances much better than I.

And we know the more dandified males      
  By dance and by song win their wives—
’Tis a law that with avis prevails,
  And ever in Homo survives.

Shall I rage as they whirl in the valse?
  Shall I sneer as they carol and coo?      
Ah no! for since Chloe is false
  I’m certain that Darwin is true.














Christopher-Smart-For-I-Will-Consider-My-Cat-Jeoffry

Christopher Smart - For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffry

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having considered God and himself he will consider his neighbor.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day’s work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord’s watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he’s a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel
            from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For the dexterity of his defense is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For he is of the Lord’s poor, and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually--Poor Jeoffry!
            poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better.
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can sit up with gravity, which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick, which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master’s bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is afraid of detection.
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly.
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Icneumon rat, very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God’s light about him both wax and fire.
For the electrical fire is the spiritual substance which God sends from heaven to sustain the
            bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, though he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.











Ella-Wheeler-Wilcox-The-London-Bobby

Ella Wheeler Wilcox - The London Bobby

A TRIBUTE TO THE POLICEMEN OF ENGLAND'S CAPITAL

Here in my cosy corner,
   Before a blazing log,
I'm thinking of cold London
   Wrapped in its killing fog;
And, like a shining beacon
   Above the picture grim,
I see the London 'Bobby,'
   And sing my song for him.

I see his stalwart figure,
   I see his kindly face,
I hear his helpful answer
   At any hour or place.
For, though you seek some by-way
   Long miles from his own beat,
He tells you all about it,
   And how to find the street.

He looks like some bold Viking,
   This king of earth's police--
Yet in his voice lies feeling,
   And in his eye lies peace;
He knows and does his duty--
   (What higher praise is there?)
And London's lords and paupers
   Alike receive his care.

He has a regal bearing,
   Yet one that breathes repose;
It is the look and manner
   Of one who thinks and knows.
Oh, men who govern nations,
   In old worlds or in new,
Turn to the London 'Bobby'
   And learn a thing or two.















Samuel-Taylor-Coleridge-Kubla-Khan

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Kubla Khan

Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
   Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
   The shadow of the dome of pleasure
   Floated midway on the waves;
   Where was heard the mingled measure
   From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

   A damsel with a dulcimer
   In a vision once I saw:
   It was an Abyssinian maid
   And on her dulcimer she played,
   Singing of Mount Abora.
   Could I revive within me
   Her symphony and song,
   To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.




















Laurence-Hope-Kashmiri-Song-by-Juma

Laurence Hope - Kashmiri Song by Juma

You never loved me, and yet to save me,
One unforgetable night you gave me
Such chill embraces as the snow-covered heights
Receive from clouds, in northern, Auroral nights.
Such keen communion as the frozen mere
Has with immaculate moonlight, cold and clear.
And all desire,
Like failing fire,
Died slowly, faded surely, and sank to rest
Against the delicate chillness of your breast.











Ellis-Parker-Butler-The-Final-Tax

Ellis Parker Butler - The Final Tax

Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
'What can we tax that is not paying?
We’re taxing every blessed thing—
Here’s what our people are defraying:

'Tariff tax, income tax,
Tax on retail sales,
Club tax, school tax,
Tax on beers and ales,

'City tax, county tax,
Tax on obligations,
War tax. wine tax,
Tax on corporations,

'Brewer tax, sewer tax,
Tax on motor cars,
Bond tax, stock tax,
Tax on liquor bars,

'Bridge tax, check tax,
Tax on drugs and pills,
Gas tax, ticket tax,
Tax on gifts in wills,

'Poll tax, dog tax,
Tax on money loaned,
State tax, road tax,
Tax on all things owned,

'Stamp tax, land tax,
Tax on wedding ring,
High tax, low tax,
Tax on everything!'

Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
'That is the list, a pretty bevy;
No thing or act that is untaxed;
There’s nothing more on which to levy.'

Said Statesman Z to Statesman A:
'The deficit each moment waxes;
This is no time for us to fail—
We will decree a tax on taxes.'







Sara-Teasdale-Enough

Sara Teasdale - Enough

It is enough for me by day
To walk the same bright earth with him;
Enough that over us by night
The same great roof of stars is dim.

I have no care to bind the wind
Or set a fetter on the sea--
It is enough to feel his love
Blow by like music over me.














Wallace-Stevens-The-Emperor-of-Ice-Cream

Wallace Stevens - The Emperor of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.












Michael-Field-Earth-to-Earth

Michael Field - Earth to Earth

I STOOD to hear that bold
Sentence of grit and mould,
  Earth to earth; they thrust
  On his coffin dust;
Stones struck against his grave:      
Oh, the old days, the brave!

Just with a pebble’s fall,
Grave-digger, you turn all
  Bliss to bereaving;
  To catch the cleaving      
Of Atropa’s fine shears
Would less hurt human ears.

Live senses that death dooms!
For friendship in dear rooms,
  Slow-lighting faces,      
  Hand-clasps, embraces,
Ashes on ashes grind:
Oh, poor lips left behind!















James-Russell-Lowell-The-Changeling

James Russell Lowell - The Changeling

I had a little daughter,
And she was given to me
To lead me gently backward
To the Heavenly Father's knee,
That I, by the force of nature,
Might in some dim wise divine
The depth of his infinite patience
To this wayward soul of mine.
I know not how others saw her,
But to me she was wholly fair,
And the light of the heaven she came from
Still lingered and gleamed in her hair;
For it was as wavy and golden,
And as many changes took,
As the shadows of the sun-gilt ripples
On the yellow bed of a brook.

To what can I liken her smiling
Upon me, her kneeling lover,
How it leaped from her lips to her eyelids,
And dimpled her wholly over,
Till her outstretched hands smiled also,
And I almost seemed to see
The very heart of her mother
Sending sun through her veins to me!

She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth,
And it hardly seemed a day,
When a troop of wandering angels
Stole my little daughter away;
Or perhaps those heavenly Zingari
But loosed the hampering strings,
And when they had opened her cage-door,
My little bird used her wings.

But they left in her stead a changeling,
A little angel child,
That seems like her bud in full blossom,
And smiles as she never smiled:
When I wake in the morning, I see it
Where she always used to lie,
And I feel as weak as a violet
Alone 'neath the awful sky.

As weak, yet as trustful also;
For the whole year long I see
All the wonders of faithful Nature
Still worked for the love of me;
Winds wander, and dews drip earthward,
Rain falls, suns rise and set,
Earth whirls, and all but to prosper
A poor little violet.

The child is not mine as the first was,
I cannot sing it to rest,
I cannot lift it up fatherly
And bliss it upon my breast;
Yet it lies in my little one's cradle
And sits in my little one's chair,
And the light of the heaven she's gone to
Transfigures its golden hair.

















James-Weldon-Johnson-Before-a-Painting

James Weldon Johnson - Before a Painting

I knew not who had wrought with skill so fine
What I beheld; nor by what laws of art
He had created life and love and heart
On canvas, from mere color, curve and line.
Silent I stood and made no move or sign;
Not with the crowd, but reverently apart;
Nor felt the power my rooted limbs to start,
But mutely gazed upon that face divine.

And over me the sense of beauty fell,
As music over a raptured listener to
The deep-voiced organ breathing out a hymn;
Or as on one who kneels, his beads to tell,
There falls the aureate glory filtered through
The windows in some old cathedral dim.













Sara-Teasdale-At-Night

Sara Teasdale - At Night

We are apart; the city grows quiet between us,
She hushes herself, for midnight makes heavy her eyes,
The tangle of traffic is ended, the cars are empty,
Five streets divide us, and on them the moonlight lies.

Oh are you asleep, or lying awake, my lover?
Open your dreams to my love and your heart to my words.
I send you my thoughts--the air between us is laden,
My thoughts fly in at your window, a flock of wild birds.













Sara-Teasdale-After-Parting

Sara Teasdale - After Parting

Oh I have sown my love so wide
That he will find it everywhere;
It will awake him in the night,
It will enfold him in the air.

I set my shadow in his sight
And I have winged it with desire,
That it may be a cloud by day
And in the night a shaft of fire.







Short Poetry Collection 148


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Sonnet 18 - William Shakespeare

Vos Que, Dolhos Suaves e Serenos

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

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Leonor de Mendonça - Antônio Gonçalves Dias

Abel e Helena- Artur Azevedo

Outras Poesias - Augusto dos Anjos

Amor De Perdição - Camilo Castelo Branco

As Flores do Mal - Charles Baudelaire

David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

Faróis - Cruz e Sousa

Hell or The Inferno from The divine comedy - Dante Alighieri

A Ilustre Casa de Ramires - Eça de Queiros - PDF

Contos Extraordinários - Edgar Allan Poe

Canudos e outros temas - Euclides da Cunha - PDF

Medeia ελληνικά - Eurípides

Livro Do Desassossego - Fernando Pessoa - Livros em PDF para Download

Gente Pobre - Fiódor Mikhailovitch Dostoiévsk - Fedor Dostoievski

O Último Magnata - Francis Scott Fitzgerald

The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka - PDF

Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert - PDF

Moby Dick - Herman Melville

Teogonía - Hesíodo

Odisséia - Homero - Download

Ulisses - James Joyce

Emma - Jane Austen - Download PDF Livro Online

Fausto - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Viagens de Gulliver - Jonathan Swift

Alfarrábios: o Ermitão da Glória - José de Alencar

O Coração das Trevas - Joseph Conrad

A mulher de Anacleto - Lima Barreto - Livros em PDF para Download

Anna Karenina - Leon Tolstói - Download

Os Lusíadas - Luís Vaz de Camões - Download

Machado de Assis

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Les Essais - Michel de Montaigne - PDF

Marcel Proust - Download PDF Livro Online

Amar verbo intransitivo - Mário de Andrade - PDF Download Livro Online

Don Quixote - Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Metamorfoses II - Públio Ovídio Naso

As jóias da Coroa - Raul Pompeia - PDF Download Livro Online

Antigonas - Sófocles

A Montanha Mágica - Thomas Mann

Eeldrop and Appleplex - T. S. Eliot - Thomas Stearns Eliot

Marília De Dirceu - Tomás Antônio Gonzaga - PDF Download Livro Online

O Corcunda de Notre-Dame - Victor Hugo - PDF Download Livro Online

Eneida - Virgilio

O Quarto de Jacob - Virginia Woolf - PDF

A Tempestade - William-Shakespeare - Livros em PDF para Download

O Som e a Fúria - William Faulkner

Bíblia Sagrada - João Ferreira de Almeida - Bíblia

Bíblia Sagrada - Católica

O Vermelho e o Negro - Stendhal - Henri-Marie Beyle

O Homem Sem Qualidades - Robert Musil

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Selfish - PnB Rock

Setting Fires - The Chainsmokers Featuring XYLO

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Used To This - Future Featuring Drake

On The Regular - Meek Mill

Two Birds, One Stone - Drake

Offended - Meek Mill Featuring Young Thug & 21 Savage

Froze - Meek Mill Featuring Lil Uzi Vert & Nicki Minaj

Better Man - Little Big Town

Litty - Meek Mill Featuring Tory Lanez

What They Want - Russ - Song Lyrics

Shout Out To My Ex - Little Mix - Song Lyrics

Hallelujah - Pentatonix - Letras de Música

Closer - The Chainsmokers ft. Halsey - Letras de Música

Chill Bill - Rob $tone ft. J. Davi$ & Spooks - Song Lyrics

Do You Mind - DJ Khaled ft. Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown & August Alsina - Letras de Música

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Starboy - The Weeknd feat Daft Punk - Song Lyrics

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Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

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Esaú e Jacó - Machado de Assis

Diva - José de Alencar

A Dívida - Artur de Azevedo

Luís Soares - Contos Fluminenses e Histórias da Meia-Noite - 01 - Machado de Assis

Singularidades de uma rapariga loura, parte 2 - Contos de Eça de Queirós

Um Club da Má Língua - Fiódor Dostoiévski

Casa Velha - Machado de Assis

Amor de Perdição - Camilo Castelo Branco

À Margem da História - Euclides da Cunha

A Tempestade; Morte de Iracema; O Pampa - Eugênio Werneck - Antologia Brasileira

Os Sertões - Euclides da Cunha

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

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Bounce Back - Big Sean

All at Sea - Frederick Moxon

Biomas brasileiros - Santa Catarina SC - Conheça seu Estado (História e Geografia)

As festas populares no estado de São Paulo - SP

Os imigrantes no século XIX e XX no estado do Paraná - PR

Pantanal – Patrimônio Natural da Humanidade - MS

Os símbolos do estado do Rio de Janeiro - RJ

Prédios mais altos do Mundo e do Brasil (Atualizado até 11/2016)

Idade das Religiões - História

Los Naranjos - Ignacio Manuel Altamirano

How Do I Love Thee? - Sonnet 43 - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Tendências de mercado - Economia em 1 Minuto

Ismalia - Alphonsus de Guimaraens

POVO E RAÇA - Mein Kampf (Minha luta) - Adolf Hitler

Capítulo VI - A FRANCESA E O GIGANTE - Macunaíma - Mário de Andrade

Comentários da semana - Crônica - Machado de Assis

CAPÍTULO X / A ENFERMA - Helena - Machado de Assis

Tu, só tu, puro amor - Teatro - Machado de Assis

CAPÍTULO VI / O POST SCRIPTUM - A Mão e a Luva

AS BODAS DE LUÍS DUARTE

CAPÍTULO IV - Quincas Borba - Machado de Assis

Poesias dispersas - Machado de Assis

TIO COSME - Dom Casmurro

A CHINELA TURCA - Papéis Avulsos

RAZÃO CONTRA SANDICE - Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas - Machado de Assis

NEM CASAL, NEM GENERAL - Esaú e Jacó - Machado de Assis

Age of Religions - History

La Edad de las Religiones - Historia

Salmos 22 - Bíblia

Totvs - Datasul - Treinamento Online (Gratuito)

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O HOMEM - Os Sertões - Euclides da Cunha - Áudio Livro

Crônica dos burros - Machado de Assis - Áudio Livro

Querida Kitty - O Diário de Anne Frank

Iaiá Garcia – Machado de Assis - Livros em PDF para Download (Domínio Público)

Curso de Inglês Online - Grátis e Completo

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Hamlet - William Shakespeare - AudioBook

Contos - Lima Barreto - Áudio Livro - Audiobook

A Conselho do Marido - Contos - Artur de Azevedo

Diva - José de Alencar - Audiobook

A mãe do cativo - Os Escravos - Castro Alves

Antífona - Broquéis - João da Cruz e Sousa

Civilização - Contos de Eça de Queirós

A Esperança - Augusto dos Anjos - Eu e Outras Poesias

Amor é fogo que arde sem se ver - Sonetos - Poemas de Amor - Luís Vaz de Camões

Material de apoio para Pais e Professores - Educação Infantil - Nível 1 (crianças entre 4 a 6 anos)

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

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

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

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