domingo, 20 de novembro de 2016

Laurence Hope - Zira: In Captivity


Laurence Hope - Zira: In Captivity

LOVE me a little, Lord, or let me go,
I am so weary walking to and fro
Through all your lonely halls that were so sweet
Did they but echo to your coming feet.

When by the flowered scrolls of lace-like stone
Our women's windows -- I am left alone,
Across the yellow Desert, looking forth,
I see the purple hills towards the north.

Behind those jagged Mountains' lilac crest
Once lay the captive bird's small rifled nest.
There was my brother slain, my sister bound;
His blood, her tears, drunk by the thirsty ground.

Then, while the burning village smoked on high,
And desecrated all the peaceful sky,
They took us captive, us, born frank and free,
On fleet, strong camels through the sandy sea.

Yet, when we rested, night-times, on the sand
By the rare waters of this weary land,
Our captors, ere the camp was wrapped in sleep,
Talked, and I listened, and forgot to weep.

"Is he not brave and fair?" they asked, "our King,
Slender as one tall palm-tree by a spring;
Erect, serene, with gravely brilliant eyes,
As deeply dark as are those desert skies.

"Truly no bitter fate," they said, and smiled,
"Awaits the beauty of this captured child!"
Then something in my heart began to sing,
And secretly I longed to see the King.

Sometimes the other maidens sat in tears,
Sometimes, consoled, they jested at their fears,
Musing what lovers Time to them would bring;
But I was silent, thinking of the King.

Till, when the weary endless sands were passed,
When, far to south, the city rose at last,
All speech forsook me and my eyelids fell,
Since I already loved my Lord so well.

Then the division: some were sent away
To merchants in the city; some, they say,
To summer palaces, beyond the walls.
But me they took straight to the Sultan's halls.

Every morning I would wake and say
"Ah, sisters, shall I see our Lord to-day?"
The women robed me, perfumed me, and smiled;
"When were his feet unfleet to pleasure, child?"

And tales they told me of his deeds in war,
Of how his name was reverenced afar;
And, crouching closer in the lamp's faint glow,
They told me of his beauty, speaking low.

What need, what need? the women wasted art;
I loved you with every fibre of my heart
Already. My God! when did I not love you,
In life, in death, when shall I not love you?

You never seek me. All day long I lie
Watching the changes of the far-off sky
Behind the lattice-work of carven stone.
And all night long, alas! I lie alone.

But you come never. Ah, my Lord the King,
How can you find it well to do this thing?
Come once, come only: sometimes, as I lie,
I doubt if I shall see you first, or die.

Ah, could I hear your footsteps at the door
Hallow the lintel and caress the floor,
Then I might drink your beauty, satisfied,
Die of delight, ere you could reach my side.

Alas, you come not, Lord: life's flame burns low,
Faint for a loveliness it may not know,
Faint for your face, Oh, come -- come soon to me --
Lest, though you should not, Death should, set me free!


R. F. Murray - Youth Renewed


Samuel Low - To A Spider

I LIKE thee not, Arachne; thou art base,
Perfidious, merciless, and full of guile;
Cruel and false, like many of our race,
Voracious as the monster of the Nile.

Thou villain insect! well do I perceive      
The treacherous web thy murderous fangs have wrought,
And yet so fine and subtle dost thou weave,
That heedless innocence perceives it not.

E’en now I see thee sit, pretending sleep,
Yet dost thou eager watch the livelong day,      
With squinting eyes, which never knew to weep;
Prepared to spring upon unguarded prey.

Ill fares it with the unwary little fly,
Or gnat, ensnared by thy insidious loom;
In thy envenomed jaws the wretch must die;      
To glut thy loathsome carcass is his doom!

Instinctive is my terror at thy sight;
Oft, ugly reptile, have I shunned thy touch;
Nor do I wonder thou should’st thus affright,
Since thou resemblest vicious man so much.      

Like him thy touch, thy very look, can blight;
But not the Spider species dost thou kill;
While, spite of duty, e’en in God’s despite,
“Man is to man the surest, sorest ill.”


Andrew Barton Paterson - The Story of Mongrel Grey

This is the story the stockman told,
On the cattle camp, when the stars were bright;
The moon rose up like a globe of gold
And flooded the plain with her mellow light.
We watched the cattle till dawn of day
And he told me the story of Mongrel Grey.
He was a knock-about station hack,
Spurred and walloped, and banged and beat;
Ridden all day with a sore on his back,
Left all night with nothing to eat.
That was a matter of every-day
Common occurrence to Mongrel Grey.
We might have sold him, but someone heard
He was bred out back on a flooded run,
Where he learnt to swim like a waterbird, —
Midnight or midday were all as one.
In the flooded ground he could find his way,
Nothing could puzzle old Mongrel Grey.
'Tis a special gift that some horses learn;
When the floods are out they will splash along
In girth-deep water, and twist and turn
From hidden channel and billabong.
Never mistaking the road to go,
For a man may guess — but the horses KNOW.
I was camping out with my youngest son —
Bit of a nipper just learnt to speak —
In an empty hut on the lower run,
Shooting and fishing in Conroy's Creek.
The youngster toddled about all day,
And with our horses was Mongrel Grey.
All of a sudden the flood came down
Fresh from the hills with the mountain rain,
Roaring and eddying, rank and brown,
Over the flats and across the plain.
Rising and rising — at fall of night
Nothing but water appeared in sight!
'Tis a nasty place when the floods are out,
Even in daylight; for all around
Channels and billabongs twist about,
Stretching for miles in the flooded ground.
And to move was a hopeless thing to try
In the dark with the water just racing by.
I had to try it. I heard a roar,
And the wind swept down with the blinding rain;
And the water rose till it reached the floor
Of our highest room, and 'twas very plain
The way the water was sweeping down
We must shift for the highlands at once, or drown.
Off to the stable I splashed, and found
The horses shaking with cold and fright;
I led them down to the lower ground,
But never a yard would they swim that night!
They reared and snorted and turned away,
And none would face it but Mongrel Grey.
I bound the child on the horse's back,
And we started off with a prayer to heaven,
Through the rain and the wind and the pitchy black,
For I knew that the instinct God has given
To guide His creatures by night and day
Would lead the footsteps of Mongrel Grey.
He struck deep water at once and swam —
I swam beside him and held his mane —
Till we touched the bank of the broken dam
In shallow water — then off again,
Swimming in darkness across the flood,
Rank with the smell of the drifting mud.
He turned and twisted across and back,
Choosing the places to wade or swim,
Picking the safest and shortest track,
The pitchy darkness was clear to him.
Did he strike the crossing by sight or smell?
The Lord that led him alone could tell!
He dodged the timber whene'er he could,
But the timber brought us to grief at last;
I was partly stunned by a log of wood,
That struck my head as it drifted past;
And I lost my grip of the brave old grey,
And in half a second he swept away.
I reached a tree, where I had to stay,
And did a perish for two days hard;
And lived on water — but Mongrel Grey,
He walked right into the homestead yard
At dawn next morning, and grazed around,
With the child on top of him safe and sound.
We keep him now for the wife to ride,
Nothing too good for him now, of course;
Never a whip on his fat old hide,
For she owes the child to that old grey horse.
And not Old Tyson himself could pay
The purchase money of Mongrel Grey.


John Donne - The Calm

Our storm is past, and that storm's tyrannous rage,
A stupid calm, but nothing it, doth 'suage.
The fable is inverted, and far more
A block afflicts, now, than a stork before.
Storms chafe, and soon wear out themselves, or us;
In calms, Heaven laughs to see us languish thus.
As steady'as I can wish that my thoughts were,
Smooth as thy mistress' glass, or what shines there,
The sea is now; and, as the isles which we
Seek, when we can move, our ships rooted be.
As water did in storms, now pitch runs out;
As lead, when a fir'd church becomes one spout.
And all our beauty, and our trim, decays,
Like courts removing, or like ended plays.
The fighting-place now seamen's rags supply;
And all the tackling is a frippery.
No use of lanthorns; and in one place lay
Feathers and dust, to-day and yesterday.
Earth's hollownesses, which the world's lungs are,
Have no more wind than the upper vault of air.
We can nor lost friends nor sought foes recover,
But meteor-like, save that we move not, hover.
Only the calenture together draws
Dear friends, which meet dead in great fishes' jaws;
And on the hatches, as on altars, lies
Each one, his own priest, and own sacrifice.
Who live, that miracle do multiply,
Where walkers in hot ovens do not die.
If in despite of these we swim, that hath
No more refreshing than our brimstone bath;
But from the sea into the ship we turn,
Like parboil'd wretches, on the coals to burn.
Like Bajazet encag'd, the shepherds' scoff,
Or like slack-sinew'd Samson, his hair off,
Languish our ships. Now as a myriad
Of ants durst th' emperor's lov'd snake invade,
The crawling gallies, sea-gaols, finny chips,
Might brave our pinnaces, now bed-rid ships.
Whether a rotten state, and hope of gain,
Or to disuse me from the queasy pain
Of being belov'd and loving, or the thirst
Of honour, or fair death, out-push'd me first,
I lose my end; for here, as well as I,
A desperate may live, and a coward die.
Stag, dog, and all which from or towards flies,
Is paid with life or prey, or doing dies.
Fate grudges us all, and doth subtly lay
A scourge, 'gainst which we all forget to pray.
He that at sea prays for more wind, as well
Under the poles may beg cold, heat in hell.
What are we then? How little more, alas,
Is man now, than before he was? He was
Nothing; for us, we are for nothing fit;
Chance, or ourselves, still disproportion it.
We have no power, no will, no sense; I lie,
I should not then thus feel this misery.


John Donne - The Storm

To Mr. Christopher Brooke

Thou which art I, ('tis nothing to be soe)
Thou which art still thy selfe, by these shalt know
Part of our passage; and, a hand, or eye
By Hilliard drawne, is worth a history,
By a worse painter made; and (without pride)
When by thy judgment they are dignifi’d,
My lines are such. 'Tis the preheminence
Of friendship onely to’impute excellence.
England, to whom we’owe, what we be, and have,
Said that her sonnes did seeke a forraine grave
(For, Fate's, or Fortune's drifts none can soothsay,
Honour and misery have one face, and way)
From out her pregnant intrailes sigh'd a winde,
Which at th'ayres middle marble roome did finde
Such strong resistance, that it selfe it threw
Downeward againe ; and so when it did view
How in the port, our fleet deare time did leese,
Withering like prisoners, which lye but for fees,
Mildly it kist our sailes, and, fresh and sweet
As, to a stomach sterv’d, whose insides meete,
Meate comes, it came; and swole our sailes, when wee
So joyd, as Sara’her swelling joy'd to see.
But 'twas but so kinde, as our countrimen,
Which bring friends one dayes way, and leave them then.
Then like two mighty Kings, which dwelling farre
Asunder, meet against a third to warre,
The South and West winds joyn'd, and, as they blew,
Waves like a rolling trench before them threw.
Sooner than you read this line, did the gale,
Like shot, not fear'd, till felt, our sails assaile;
And what at first was call'd a gust, the same
Hath now a stormes, anon a tempests name.
Jonas, I pitty thee, and curse those men
Who, when the storm rage’d most, did wake thee then.
Sleepe is paines easiest salve, and doth fulfill
All offices of death, except to kill.
But when I wakt, I saw, that I saw not.
I, and the Sunne, which should teach mee’had forgot
East, West, day, night, and I could onely say,
If’the world had lasted, now it had been day.
Thousands our noyses were, yet wee'mongst all
Could none by his right name, but thunder, call:
Lightning was all our light, and it rain'd more
Than if the Sunne had drunke the sea before;
Some coffin'd in their cabins lye, ‘equally
Griev’d that they are not dead, and yet must die.
And as sin-burd’ned soules from grave will creepe,
At the last day, some forth their cabins peepe:
And tremblingly’aske what newes, and doe heare so,
Like jealous husbands, what they would not know.
Some sitting on the hatches, would seeme there,
With hideous gazing to feare away feare.
Then note they the ship's sicknesses, the Mast
Shak’d with an ague, and the Hold and Wast
With a salt dropsie clog'd, and all our tacklings
Snapping, like too- high-stretched treble strings.
And from our totterd sailes, ragges drop downe so,
As from one hang'd in chaines a year agoe.
Even our Ordnance plac’d for our defence,
Strive to breake loose, and scape away from thence.
Pumping hath tir’d our men, and what's the gaine?
Seas into seas throwne, we suck in againe;
Hearing hath deaf'd our saylers: and if they
Knew how to heare, there's none knowes what to say.
Compar’d to these stormes, death is but a qualme,
Hell somewhat lightsome, and the’Bermuda calme.
Darknesse, lights elder brother, his birth-right
Claims o'er this world, and to heaven hath chas’d light.
All things are one, and that one none can be,
Since all formes uniforme deformity
Doth cover, so that wee, except God say
Another Fiat, shall have no more day.
So violent, yet long these furies bee,
That though thine absence starve me,‘I wish not thee.


Edna St. Vincent Millay - Sonnet VII from Eight Sonnets (Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word)

Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
Give me back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.


William Shakespeare - Sonnet 53

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new.
Speak of the spring and foison of the year:
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessèd shape we know.
    In all external grace you have some part,
    But you like none, none you, for constant heart.


Claude McKay - The Snow Fairy


Throughout the afternoon I watched them there,
Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky,
Whirling fantastic in the misty air,
Contending fierce for space supremacy.
And they flew down a mightier force at night,
As though in heaven there was revolt and riot,
And they, frail things had taken panic flight
Down to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet.
I went to bed and rose at early dawn
To see them huddled together in a heap,
Each merged into the other upon the lawn,
Worn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep.
The sun shone brightly on them half the day,
By night they stealthily had stol’n away.


And suddenly my thoughts then turned to you
Who came to me upon a winter’s night,
When snow-sprites round my attic window flew,
Your hair disheveled, eyes aglow with light.
My heart was like the weather when you came,
The wanton winds were blowing loud and long;
But you, with joy and passion all aflame,
You danced and sang a lilting summer song.
I made room for you in my little bed,
Took covers from the closet fresh and warm,
A downful pillow for your scented head,
And lay down with you resting in my arm.
You went with Dawn. You left me ere the day,
The lonely actor of a dreamy play.


Laurence Hope - Request

Give me your self one hour; I do not crave
For any love, or even thought, of me.
Come, as a Sultan may caress a slave
And then forget for ever, utterly.

Come! as west winds, that passing, cool and wet,
O'er desert places, leave them fields in flower
And all my life, for I shall not forget,
Will keep the fragrance of that perfect hour!


Amy Lowell - Prime

Your voice is like bells over roofs at dawn
  When a bird flies
  And the sky changes to a fresher color.

  Speak, speak, Beloved.
  Say little things
  For my ears to catch
  And run with them to my heart.


R. F. Murray - An Orator's Complaint


Ben Jonson - It Is Not Growing Like a Tree

It is not growing like a tree
In bulk doth make Man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night—
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.


Langston Hughes - The Negro Speaks of Rivers

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.


Queen Elizabeth I - On Monsieur's Departure

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die and so forget what love ere meant.


William Carlos Williams - A Love Song

What have I to say to you
When we shall meet?
I lie here thinking of you.

The stain of love
Is upon the world.
Yellow, yellow, yellow,
It eats into the leaves,
Smears with saffron
The horned branches that lean
Against a smooth purple sky.

There is no light—
Only a honey-thick stain
That drips from leaf to leaf
And limb to limb
Spoiling the colours
Of the whole world.

I am alone.
The weight of love
Has buoyed me up
Till my head
Knocks against the sky.

See me!
My hair is dripping with nectar—
Starlings carry it
On their black wings.
See, at last
My arms and my hands
Are lying idle.

How can I tell
If I shall ever love you again
As I do now?


Michael Field - Lettice

LITTLE Lettice is dead, they say,
The brown, sweet child who rolled in the hay;
  Ah, where shall we find her?
  For the neighbors pass
  To the pretty lass,      
In a linen cere-cloth to wind her.

If her sister were set to search
The nettle-green nook beside the church,
  And the way were shown her
  Through the coffin-gate      
  To her dead playmate,
She would fly too frightened to own her.

Should she come at a noonday call,
Ah, stealthy, stealthy, with no footfall,
  And no laughing chatter,        15
  To her mother ’t were worse
  Than a barren curse
That her own little wench should pat her.

Little Lettice is dead and gone!
The stream by her garden wanders on        20
  Through the rushes wider;
  She fretted to know
  How its bright drops grow
On the hills, but no hand would guide her.

Little Lettice is dead and lost!        25
Her willow-tree boughs by storm are tost—
  Oh, the swimming sallows!—
  Where she crouched to find
  The nest of the wind
Like a water-fowl’s in the shallows.        30

Little Lettice is out of sight!
The river-bed and the breeze are bright:
  Ay me, were it sinning
  To dream that she knows
  Where the soft wind rose        35
That her willow-branches is thinning?

Little Lettice has lost her name,
Slipt away from our praise and our blame;
  Let not love pursue her,
  But conceive her free        40
  Where the bright drops be
On the hills, and no longer rue her!


Thomas Moore - The Kiss

Give me, my love, that billing kiss
I taught you one delicious night,
When, turning epicures in bliss,
We tried inventions of delight.

Come, gently steal my lips along,
And let your lips in murmurs move, -
Ah, no! - again - that kiss was wrong -
How can you be so dull, my love?

'Cease, cease!' the blushing girl replies -
And in her milky arms she caught me -
'How can you thus your pupil chide;
You know' twas in the dark you taught me!'


Gerard Manley Hopkins - Henry Purcell

  The poet wishes well to the divine genius of Purcell and praises him that, whereas other musicians have given utterance to the moods of man’s mind, he has, beyond that, uttered in notes the very make and species of man as created both in him and in all men generally.

HAVE, fair fallen, O fair, fair have fallen, so dear
To me, so arch-especial a spirit as heaves in Henry Purcell,
An age is now since passed, since parted; with the reversal
Of the outward sentence low lays him, listed to a heresy, here.

Not mood in him nor meaning, proud fire or sacred fear,      
Or love or pity or all that sweet notes not his might nursle:
It is the forgèd feature finds me; it is the rehearsal
Of own, of abrupt self there so thrusts on, so throngs the ear.

Let him Oh! with his air of angels then lift me, lay me! only I’ll
Have an eye to the sakes of him, quaint moonmarks, to his pelted plumage under        10
Wings: so some great stormfowl, whenever he has walked his while

The thunder-purple seabeach plumèd purple-of-thunder,
If a wuthering of his palmy snow-pinions scatter a colossal smile
Off him, but meaning motion fans fresh our wits with wonder.


Andrew Barton Paterson - The Flying Gang

I served my time, in the days gone by,
In the railway's clash and clang,
And I worked my way to the end, and I
Was the head of the "Flying Gang".
'Twas a chosen band that was kept at hand
In case of an urgent need;
Was it south or north, we were started forth
And away at our utmost speed.
If word reached town that a bridge was down,
The imperious summons rang,
"Come out with the pilot engine sharp,
And away with the flying gang."

Then a piercing scream and a rush of steam
As the engine moved ahead;
With measured beat by the slum and street
Of the busy town we fled,
By the uplands bright and the homesteads white,
With the rush of the western gale,
And the pilot swayed with the pace we made
As she rocked on the ringing rail.
And the country children clapped their hands
As the engine's echoes rang,
But their elders said: "There is work ahead
When they send for the flying gang."

Then across the miles of the saltbush plain
That gleamed with the morning dew,
Where the grasses waved like the ripening grain
The pilot engine flew,
A fiery rush in the open bush
Where the grade marks seemed to fly,
And the order sped on the wires ahead,
The pilot must go by.
The Governor's special must stand aside,
And the fast express go hang;
Let your orders be that the line is free
For the boys in the flying gang.


William Herbert Carruth - Each in His Own Tongue

A FIRE-MIST and a planet,--
A crystal and a cell,--
A jelly-fish and a saurian,
And caves where the cave-men dwell;
Then a sense of law and beauty,
And a face turned from the clod,--
Some call it Evolution,
And others call it God.

A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite, tender sky,
The ripe, rich tint of the cornfields,
And the wild geese sailing high,--
And all over the upland and lowland
The charm of the goldenrod,--
Some of us call it Autumn,
And others call it God.

Like tides on a crescent sea-beach,
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts high yearnings
Come welling and surging in,--
Come from the mystic ocean
Whose rim no foot has trod,--
Some of us call it longing,
And others call it God.

A picket frozen on duty,--
A mother starved for her brood,--
Socrates drinking the hemlock,
And Jesus on the rood;
And millions who, humble and nameless,
The straight, hard pathways plod,--
Some call it Consecration,
And others call it God.


R. F. Murray - A Criticism of Critics


Andrew Barton Paterson - Come-By-Chance

As I pondered very weary o'er a volume long and dreary —
For the plot was void of interest — 'twas the Postal Guide, in fact,
There I learnt the true location, distance, size, and population
Of each township, town, and village in the radius of the Act.
And I learnt that Puckawidgee stands beside the Murrumbidgee,
And that Booleroi and Bumble get their letters twice a year,
Also that the post inspector, when he visited Collector,
Closed the office up instanter, and re-opened Dungalear.
But my languid mood forsook me, when I found a name that took me,
Quite by chance I came across it — ‘Come-by-Chance' was what I read;
No location was assigned it, not a thing to help one find it,
Just an N which stood for northward, and the rest was all unsaid.
I shall leave my home, and forthward wander stoutly to the northward
Till I come by chance across it, and I'll straightway settle down,
For there can't be any hurry, nor the slightest cause for worry
Where the telegraph don't reach you nor the railways run to town.
And one's letters and exchanges come by chance across the ranges,
Where a wiry young Australian leads a pack-horse once a week,
And the good news grows by keeping, and you're spared the pain of weeping
Over bad news when the mailman drops the letters in the creek.
But I fear, and more's the pity, that there's really no such city,
For there's not a man can find it of the shrewdest folk I know,
‘Come-by-chance’, be sure it never means a land of fierce endeavour,
It is just the careless country where the dreamers only go.
Though we work and toil and hustle in our life of haste and bustle,
All that makes our life worth living comes unstriven for and free;
Man may weary and importune, but the fickle goddess Fortune
Deals him out his pain or pleasure, careless what his worth may be.
All the happy times entrancing, days of sport and nights of dancing,
Moonlit rides and stolen kisses, pouting lips and loving glance:
When you think of these be certain you have looked behind the curtain,
You have had the luck to linger just a while in ‘Come-by-chance’.


Isaac Joslyn Cox - And So Did I

Before the fire, that winter's night
   None seemed so sweet as she,
With winning smile, and dark eyes bright,
   And playful repartee.
The dancing light - as round it flashed -
   To her seemed drawing nigh,
Her slender waist pressed unabashed;
   Thus guided, so did I.
It softly touched her cheeks aflame.
   I scarce repressed a sigh.
It touched her lips. Dared I the same?
   Too tempting; so did I.
Her ruby lips, half pouting, seemed
   My boldness to decry.
Pa's step was heard. The flame scarce gleamed,
   Went out - and so did I.


Thomas Campion - Advice to a Girl

Never love unless you can
Bear with all the faults of man!
Men sometimes will jealous be
Though but little cause they see,
And hang the head as discontent,
And speak what straight they will repent.
Men, that but one Saint adore,
Make a show of love to more;
Beauty must be scorned in none,
Though but truly served in one:
For what is courtship but disguise?
True hearts may have dissembling eyes.
Men, when their affairs require,
Must awhile themselves retire;
Sometimes hunt, and sometimes hawk,
And not ever sit and talk:
If these and such-like you can bear,
Then like, and love, and never fear!

Short Poetry Collection 151

Conteúdo completo disponível em:


Billboard Hot 100 - Letras de Músicas | Song Lyrics - Songtext - Testo Canzone - Paroles Musique - 歌曲歌词 - 歌詞 - كلمات الاغنية - песни Текст

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Norte Catarinense (Mesorregião)

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Rio de Janeiro - Representação e Localização

Em busca da água que sustenta a vida

Arquitetura e estética no Brasil

Civilização Islâmica - História em 1 Minuto

Dom Casmurro - Machado de Assis

Quincas Borba - Machado de Assis

Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas - Machado de Assis

O Diário de Anne Frank

Mein Kampf - Adolf Hitler

Salmos 54 - Bíblia

Quase ministro - Machado de Assis

TOP 10: Poesia - Poemas em Português, Espanhol, francês e inglês

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Marabá - Gonçalves Dias

Los Naranjos

Lorsque l'enfant paraît - Victor Hugo

Fim - Mário de Sá-Carneiro

Sonnet 18 - William Shakespeare

Vos Que, Dolhos Suaves e Serenos

Sonho Branco - Broquéis - João da Cruz e Sousa

Bandido negro - Os Escravos - Castro Alves

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

TOP 50: PDF para Download - Domínio Público

Livros em PDF para Download

O Mito de Sísifo - Albert Camus

The Diary of a Young Girl - The Definitive Edition - Anne Frank

Mein Kampf - Adolf Hitler - Download PDF Livro Online

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

A Cartomante - Machado de Assis - PDF Download Livro Online

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

TOP 20: Billboard - Letras de Músicas - Song Lyrics - Songtext

Kill A Word - Eric Church Featuring Rhiannon Giddens

Selfish - PnB Rock

Setting Fires - The Chainsmokers Featuring XYLO

Bounce Back - Big Sean

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

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

Juju On That Beat (TZ Anthem) - Zay Hilfigerrr & Zayion McCall - Letras de Música

Starboy - The Weeknd feat Daft Punk - Song Lyrics

Audiobook, Educação Infantil, Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Jogos para Crianças - Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental

Atividades Educativas Ensino Fundamental - Aprendendo sobre o Dinheiro

Progress 4GL - DDK-GUI - Datasul

Your Attidute Against SAP Business All-In-One Projects

Lima Barreto - Quase ela deu o sim, mas...

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

TOP 50: BLOG by Sanderlei Silveira

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 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)

SAP Business All-In-One Rapid-Deployment Solution Overview

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

Curso de Espanhol Online - Grátis e Completo

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)

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

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

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