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Written by Matthew Arnold | Create an image from this poem

The Strayed Reveller

 1 Faster, faster, 
2 O Circe, Goddess,
3 Let the wild, thronging train 
4 The bright procession 
5 Of eddying forms, 
6 Sweep through my soul! 

7 Thou standest, smiling
8 Down on me! thy right arm,
9 Lean'd up against the column there,
10 Props thy soft cheek;
11 Thy left holds, hanging loosely,
12 The deep cup, ivy-cinctured,
13 I held but now. 

14 Is it, then, evening 
15 So soon? I see, the night-dews, 
16 Cluster'd in thick beads, dim 
17 The agate brooch-stones 
18 On thy white shoulder; 
19 The cool night-wind, too, 
20 Blows through the portico, 
21 Stirs thy hair, Goddess, 
22 Waves thy white robe! 

Circe. 

23 Whence art thou, sleeper? 

The Youth. 

24 When the white dawn first 
25 Through the rough fir-planks 
26 Of my hut, by the chestnuts, 
27 Up at the valley-head, 
28 Came breaking, Goddess! 
29 I sprang up, I threw round me 
30 My dappled fawn-skin; 
31 Passing out, from the wet turf, 
32 Where they lay, by the hut door, 
33 I snatch'd up my vine-crown, my fir-staff, 
34 All drench'd in dew- 
35 Came swift down to join 
36 The rout early gather'd 
37 In the town, round the temple, 
38 Iacchus' white fane 
39 On yonder hill. 

40 Quick I pass'd, following 
41 The wood-cutters' cart-track 
42 Down the dark valley;-I saw 
43 On my left, through the beeches,
44 Thy palace, Goddess, 
45 Smokeless, empty! 
46 Trembling, I enter'd; beheld 
47 The court all silent, 
48 The lions sleeping, 
49 On the altar this bowl. 
50 I drank, Goddess! 
51 And sank down here, sleeping, 
52 On the steps of thy portico. 

Circe. 

53 Foolish boy! Why tremblest thou?
54 Thou lovest it, then, my wine?
55 Wouldst more of it? See, how glows,
56 Through the delicate, flush'd marble,
57 The red, creaming liquor,
58 Strown with dark seeds! 
59 Drink, thee! I chide thee not, 
60 Deny thee not my bowl. 
61 Come, stretch forth thy hand, thee-so! 
62 Drink-drink again! 

The Youth. 

63 Thanks, gracious one! 
64 Ah, the sweet fumes again! 
65 More soft, ah me, 
66 More subtle-winding 
67 Than Pan's flute-music! 
68 Faint-faint! Ah me, 
69 Again the sweet sleep! 

Circe. 

70 Hist! Thou-within there! 
71 Come forth, Ulysses! 
72 Art tired with hunting? 
73 While we range the woodland,
74 See what the day brings. 

Ulysses. 

75 Ever new magic! 
76 Hast thou then lured hither,
77 Wonderful Goddess, by thy art, 
78 The young, languid-eyed Ampelus, 
79 Iacchus' darling- 
80 Or some youth beloved of Pan, 
81 Of Pan and the Nymphs? 
82 That he sits, bending downward 
83 His white, delicate neck 
84 To the ivy-wreathed marge 
85 Of thy cup; the bright, glancing vine-leaves
86 That crown his hair, 
87 Falling forward, mingling 
88 With the dark ivy-plants-- 
89 His fawn-skin, half untied, 
90 Smear'd with red wine-stains? Who is he, 
91 That he sits, overweigh'd 
92 By fumes of wine and sleep, 
93 So late, in thy portico? 
94 What youth, Goddess,-what guest 
95 Of Gods or mortals? 

Circe. 

96 Hist! he wakes!
97 I lured him not hither, Ulysses.
98 Nay, ask him! 

The Youth. 

99 Who speaks' Ah, who comes forth
100 To thy side, Goddess, from within?
101 How shall I name him?
102 This spare, dark-featured,
103 Quick-eyed stranger?
104 Ah, and I see too
105 His sailor's bonnet,
106 His short coat, travel-tarnish'd,
107 With one arm bare!--
108 Art thou not he, whom fame
109 This long time rumours
110 The favour'd guest of Circe, brought by the waves?
111 Art thou he, stranger?
112 The wise Ulysses,
113 Laertes' son? 

Ulysses. 

114 I am Ulysses. 
115 And thou, too, sleeper? 
116 Thy voice is sweet. 
117 It may be thou hast follow'd 
118 Through the islands some divine bard, 
119 By age taught many things, 
120 Age and the Muses; 
121 And heard him delighting 
122 The chiefs and people 
123 In the banquet, and learn'd his songs.
124 Of Gods and Heroes, 
125 Of war and arts, 
126 And peopled cities, 
127 Inland, or built 
128 By the gray sea.-If so, then hail! 
129 I honour and welcome thee. 

The Youth. 

130 The Gods are happy. 
131 They turn on all sides 
132 Their shining eyes, 
133 And see below them 
134 The earth and men. 

135 They see Tiresias 
136 Sitting, staff in hand, 
137 On the warm, grassy 
138 Asopus bank, 
139 His robe drawn over 
140 His old sightless head, 
141 Revolving inly 
142 The doom of Thebes. 

143 They see the Centaurs
144 In the upper glens
145 Of Pelion, in the streams,
146 Where red-berried ashes fringe
147 The clear-brown shallow pools,
148 With streaming flanks, and heads
149 Rear'd proudly, snuffing
150 The mountain wind. 

151 They see the Indian
152 Drifting, knife in hand,
153 His frail boat moor'd to
154 A floating isle thick-matted
155 With large-leaved, low-creeping melon-plants 
156 And the dark cucumber. 

157 He reaps, and stows them,
158 Drifting--drifting;--round him,
159 Round his green harvest-plot,
160 Flow the cool lake-waves,
161 The mountains ring them. 

162 They see the Scythian
163 On the wide stepp, unharnessing
164 His wheel'd house at noon.
165 He tethers his beast down, and makes his meal--
166 Mares' milk, and bread
167 Baked on the embers;--all around
168 The boundless, waving grass-plains stretch, thick-starr'd
169 With saffron and the yellow hollyhock
170 And flag-leaved iris-flowers.
171 Sitting in his cart
172 He makes his meal; before him, for long miles,
173 Alive with bright green lizards,
174 And the springing bustard-fowl,
175 The track, a straight black line,
176 Furrows the rich soil; here and there
177 Cluster of lonely mounds
178 Topp'd with rough-hewn,
179 Gray, rain-blear'd statues, overpeer
180 The sunny waste. 

181 They see the ferry
182 On the broad, clay-laden
183 Lone Chorasmian stream;--thereon,
184 With snort and strain,
185 Two horses, strongly swimming, tow
186 The ferry-boat, with woven ropes
187 To either bow
188 Firm harness'd by the mane; a chief
189 With shout and shaken spear,
190 Stands at the prow, and guides them; but astern
191 The cowering merchants, in long robes,
192 Sit pale beside their wealth
193 Of silk-bales and of balsam-drops,
194 Of gold and ivory,
195 Of turquoise-earth and amethyst,
196 Jasper and chalcedony,
197 And milk-barred onyx-stones.
198 The loaded boat swings groaning
199 In the yellow eddies;
200 The Gods behold him. 

201 They see the Heroes
202 Sitting in the dark ship
203 On the foamless, long-heaving
204 Violet sea.
205 At sunset nearing
206 The Happy Islands. 

207 These things, Ulysses,
208 The wise bards, also
209 Behold and sing.
210 But oh, what labour!
211 O prince, what pain!
212 They too can see
213 Tiresias;--but the Gods,
214 Who give them vision,
215 Added this law:
216 That they should bear too
217 His groping blindness,
218 His dark foreboding,
219 His scorn'd white hairs;
220 Bear Hera's anger
221 Through a life lengthen'd
222 To seven ages. 

223 They see the Centaurs
224 On Pelion:--then they feel,
225 They too, the maddening wine
226 Swell their large veins to bursting; in wild pain
227 They feel the biting spears
228 Of the grim Lapith?, and Theseus, drive,
229 Drive crashing through their bones; they feel
230 High on a jutting rock in the red stream
231 Alcmena's dreadful son
232 Ply his bow;--such a price
233 The Gods exact for song:
234 To become what we sing. 

235 They see the Indian
236 On his mountain lake; but squalls
237 Make their skiff reel, and worms
238 In the unkind spring have gnawn
239 Their melon-harvest to the heart.--They see
240 The Scythian: but long frosts
241 Parch them in winter-time on the bare stepp,
242 Till they too fade like grass; they crawl
243 Like shadows forth in spring. 

244 They see the merchants
245 On the Oxus stream;--but care
246 Must visit first them too, and make them pale.
247 Whether, through whirling sand,
248 A cloud of desert robber-horse have burst
249 Upon their caravan; or greedy kings,
250 In the wall'd cities the way passes through,
251 Crush'd them with tolls; or fever-airs,
252 On some great river's marge,
253 Mown them down, far from home. 

254 They see the Heroes
255 Near harbour;--but they share
256 Their lives, and former violent toil in Thebes,
257 Seven-gated Thebes, or Troy;
258 Or where the echoing oars
259 Of Argo first
260 Startled the unknown sea. 

261 The old Silenus
262 Came, lolling in the sunshine,
263 From the dewy forest-coverts,
264 This way at noon.
265 Sitting by me, while his Fauns
266 Down at the water-side
267 Sprinkled and smoothed
268 His drooping garland,
269 He told me these things. 

270 But I, Ulysses,
271 Sitting on the warm steps,
272 Looking over the valley,
273 All day long, have seen,
274 Without pain, without labour,
275 Sometimes a wild-hair'd M?nad--
276 Sometimes a Faun with torches--
277 And sometimes, for a moment,
278 Passing through the dark stems
279 Flowing-robed, the beloved,
280 The desired, the divine,
281 Beloved Iacchus. 

282 Ah, cool night-wind, tremulous stars!
283 Ah, glimmering water,
284 Fitful earth-murmur,
285 Dreaming woods!
286 Ah, golden-haired, strangely smiling Goddess,
287 And thou, proved, much enduring,
288 Wave-toss'd Wanderer!
289 Who can stand still?
290 Ye fade, ye swim, ye waver before me--
291 The cup again! 

292 Faster, faster,
293 O Circe, Goddess.
294 Let the wild, thronging train,
295 The bright procession
296 Of eddying forms,
297 Sweep through my soul!


Written by Eugene Field | Create an image from this poem

Mr. Dana of the New York Sun

 Thar showed up out'n Denver in the spring uv '81
A man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, 'nd he wuz a sight ter view
Ez he walked inter the orfice 'nd inquired fer work ter do.
Thar warn't no places vacant then,--fer be it understood,
That wuz the time when talent flourished at that altitood;
But thar the stranger lingered, tellin' Raymond 'nd the rest
Uv what perdigious wonders he could do when at his best,
Till finally he stated (quite by chance) that he hed done
A heap uv work with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

Wall, that wuz quite another thing; we owned that ary cuss
Who'd worked f'r Mr. Dana must be good enough fer us!
And so we tuk the stranger's word 'nd nipped him while we could,
For if we didn't take him we knew John Arkins would;
And Cooper, too, wuz mouzin' round fer enterprise 'nd brains,
Whenever them commodities blew in across the plains.
At any rate we nailed him, which made ol' Cooper swear
And Arkins tear out handfuls uv his copious curly hair;
But we set back and cackled, 'nd bed a power uv fun
With our man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

It made our eyes hang on our cheeks 'nd lower jaws ter drop,
Ter hear that feller tellin' how ol' Dana run his shop:
It seems that Dana wuz the biggest man you ever saw,--
He lived on human bein's, 'nd preferred to eat 'em raw!
If he hed Democratic drugs ter take, before he took 'em,
As good old allopathic laws prescribe, he allus shook 'em.
The man that could set down 'nd write like Dany never grew,
And the sum of human knowledge wuzn't half what Dana knew;
The consequence appeared to be that nearly every one
Concurred with Mr. Dana of the Noo York Sun.

This feller, Cantell Whoppers, never brought an item in,--
He spent his time at Perrin's shakin' poker dice f'r gin.
Whatever the assignment, he wuz allus sure to shirk,
He wuz very long on likker and all-fired short on work!
If any other cuss had played the tricks he dared ter play,
The daisies would be bloomin' over his remains to-day;
But somehow folks respected him and stood him to the last,
Considerin' his superior connections in the past.
So, when he bilked at poker, not a sucker drew a gun
On the man who 'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

Wall, Dana came ter Denver in the fall uv '83.
A very different party from the man we thought ter see,--
A nice 'nd clean old gentleman, so dignerfied 'nd calm,
You bet yer life he never did no human bein' harm!
A certain hearty manner 'nd a fulness uv the vest
Betokened that his sperrits 'nd his victuals wuz the best;
His face wuz so benevolent, his smile so sweet 'nd kind,
That they seemed to be the reflex uv an honest, healthy mind;
And God had set upon his head a crown uv silver hair
In promise uv the golden crown He meaneth him to wear.
So, uv us boys that met him out'n Denver, there wuz none
But fell in love with Dana uv the Noo York Sun.

But when he came to Denver in that fall uv '83,
His old friend Cantell Whoppers disappeared upon a spree;
The very thought uv seein' Dana worked upon him so
(They hadn't been together fer a year or two, you know),
That he borrered all the stuff he could and started on a bat,
And, strange as it may seem, we didn't see him after that.
So, when ol' Dana hove in sight, we couldn't understand
Why he didn't seem to notice that his crony wa'n't on hand;
No casual allusion, not a question, no, not one,
For the man who'd "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun!"

We broke it gently to him, but he didn't seem surprised,
Thar wuz no big burst uv passion as we fellers had surmised.
He said that Whoppers wuz a man he 'd never heerd about,
But he mought have carried papers on a Jarsey City route;
And then he recollected hearin' Mr. Laffan say
That he'd fired a man named Whoppers fur bein' drunk one day,
Which, with more likker underneath than money in his vest,
Had started on a freight-train fur the great 'nd boundin' West,
But further information or statistics he had none
Uv the man who'd "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun."

We dropped the matter quietly 'nd never made no fuss,--
When we get played for suckers, why, that's a horse on us!--
But every now 'nd then we Denver fellers have to laff
To hear some other paper boast uv havin' on its staff
A man who's "worked with Dana," 'nd then we fellers wink
And pull our hats down on our eyes 'nd set around 'nd think.
It seems like Dana couldn't be as smart as people say,
If he educates so many folks 'nd lets 'em get away;
And, as for us, in future we'll be very apt to shun
The man who "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun."

But bless ye, Mr. Dana! may you live a thousan' years,
To sort o' keep things lively in this vale of human tears;
An' may I live a thousan', too,--a thousan' less a day,
For I shouldn't like to be on earth to hear you'd passed away.
And when it comes your time to go you'll need no Latin chaff
Nor biographic data put in your epitaph;
But one straight line of English and of truth will let folks know
The homage 'nd the gratitude 'nd reverence they owe;
You'll need no epitaph but this: "Here sleeps the man who run
That best 'nd brightest paper, the Noo York Sun."
Written by Christopher Marlowe | Create an image from this poem

Hero and Leander: The First Sestiad

 1 On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood,
2 In view and opposite two cities stood,
3 Sea-borderers, disjoin'd by Neptune's might;
4 The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight.
5 At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair,
6 Whom young Apollo courted for her hair,
7 And offer'd as a dower his burning throne,
8 Where she could sit for men to gaze upon.
9 The outside of her garments were of lawn,
10 The lining purple silk, with gilt stars drawn;
11 Her wide sleeves green, and border'd with a grove,
12 Where Venus in her naked glory strove
13 To please the careless and disdainful eyes
14 Of proud Adonis, that before her lies;
15 Her kirtle blue, whereon was many a stain,
16 Made with the blood of wretched lovers slain.
17 Upon her head she ware a myrtle wreath,
18 From whence her veil reach'd to the ground beneath;
19 Her veil was artificial flowers and leaves,
20 Whose workmanship both man and beast deceives;
21 Many would praise the sweet smell as she past,
22 When 'twas the odour which her breath forth cast;
23 And there for honey bees have sought in vain,
24 And beat from thence, have lighted there again.
25 About her neck hung chains of pebble-stone,
26 Which lighten'd by her neck, like diamonds shone.
27 She ware no gloves; for neither sun nor wind
28 Would burn or parch her hands, but, to her mind,
29 Or warm or cool them, for they took delight
30 To play upon those hands, they were so white.
31 Buskins of shells, all silver'd, used she,
32 And branch'd with blushing coral to the knee;
33 Where sparrows perch'd, of hollow pearl and gold,
34 Such as the world would wonder to behold:
35 Those with sweet water oft her handmaid fills,
36 Which as she went, would chirrup through the bills.
37 Some say, for her the fairest Cupid pin'd,
38 And looking in her face, was strooken blind.
39 But this is true; so like was one the other,
40 As he imagin'd Hero was his mother;
41 And oftentimes into her bosom flew,
42 About her naked neck his bare arms threw,
43 And laid his childish head upon her breast,
44 And with still panting rock'd there took his rest.
45 So lovely-fair was Hero, Venus' nun,
46 As Nature wept, thinking she was undone,
47 Because she took more from her than she left,
48 And of such wondrous beauty her bereft:
49 Therefore, in sign her treasure suffer'd wrack,
50 Since Hero's time hath half the world been black.

51 Amorous Leander, beautiful and young
52 (Whose tragedy divine Mus?us sung),
53 Dwelt at Abydos; since him dwelt there none
54 For whom succeeding times make greater moan.
55 His dangling tresses, that were never shorn,
56 Had they been cut, and unto Colchos borne,
57 Would have allur'd the vent'rous youth of Greece
58 To hazard more than for the golden fleece.
59 Fair Cynthia wish'd his arms might be her sphere;
60 Grief makes her pale, because she moves not there.
61 His body was as straight as Circe's wand;
62 Jove might have sipt out nectar from his hand.
63 Even as delicious meat is to the taste,
64 So was his neck in touching, and surpast
65 The white of Pelops' shoulder: I could tell ye,
66 How smooth his breast was, and how white his belly;
67 And whose immortal fingers did imprint
68 That heavenly path with many a curious dint
69 That runs along his back; but my rude pen
70 Can hardly blazon forth the loves of men,
71 Much less of powerful gods: let it suffice
72 That my slack Muse sings of Leander's eyes;
73 Those orient cheeks and lips, exceeding his
74 That leapt into the water for a kiss
75 Of his own shadow, and, despising many,
76 Died ere he could enjoy the love of any.
77 Had wild Hippolytus Leander seen,
78 Enamour'd of his beauty had he been.
79 His presence made the rudest peasant melt,
80 That in the vast uplandish country dwelt;
81 The barbarous Thracian soldier, mov'd with nought,
82 Was mov'd with him, and for his favour sought.
83 Some swore he was a maid in man's attire,
84 For in his looks were all that men desire,--
85 A pleasant smiling cheek, a speaking eye,
86 A brow for love to banquet royally;
87 And such as knew he was a man, would say,
88 "Leander, thou art made for amorous play;
89 Why art thou not in love, and lov'd of all?
90 Though thou be fair, yet be not thine own thrall."

91 The men of wealthy Sestos every year,
92 For his sake whom their goddess held so dear,
93 Rose-cheek'd Adonis, kept a solemn feast.
94 Thither resorted many a wandering guest
95 To meet their loves; such as had none at all
96 Came lovers home from this great festival;
97 For every street, like to a firmament,
98 Glister'd with breathing stars, who, where they went,
99 Frighted the melancholy earth, which deem'd
100 Eternal heaven to burn, for so it seem'd
101 As if another Pha{"e}ton had got
102 The guidance of the sun's rich chariot.
103 But far above the loveliest, Hero shin'd,
104 And stole away th' enchanted gazer's mind;
105 For like sea-nymphs' inveigling harmony,
106 So was her beauty to the standers-by;
107 Nor that night-wandering, pale, and watery star
108 (When yawning dragons draw her thirling car
109 From Latmus' mount up to the gloomy sky,
110 Where, crown'd with blazing light and majesty,
111 She proudly sits) more over-rules the flood
112 Than she the hearts of those that near her stood.
113 Even as when gaudy nymphs pursue the chase,
114 Wretched Ixion's shaggy-footed race,
115 Incens'd with savage heat, gallop amain
116 From steep pine-bearing mountains to the plain,
117 So ran the people forth to gaze upon her,
118 And all that view'd her were enamour'd on her.
119 And as in fury of a dreadful fight,
120 Their fellows being slain or put to flight,
121 Poor soldiers stand with fear of death dead-strooken,
122 So at her presence all surpris'd and tooken,
123 Await the sentence of her scornful eyes;
124 He whom she favours lives; the other dies.
125 There might you see one sigh, another rage,
126 And some, their violent passions to assuage,
127 Compile sharp satires; but, alas, too late,
128 For faithful love will never turn to hate.
129 And many, seeing great princes were denied,
130 Pin'd as they went, and thinking on her, died.
131 On this feast-day--O cursed day and hour!--
132 Went Hero thorough Sestos, from her tower
133 To Venus' temple, where unhappily,
134 As after chanc'd, they did each other spy.
135 So fair a church as this had Venus none:
136 The walls were of discolour'd jasper-stone,
137 Wherein was Proteus carved; and over-head
138 A lively vine of green sea-agate spread,
139 Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung,
140 And with the other wine from grapes out-wrung.
141 Of crystal shining fair the pavement was;
142 The town of Sestos call'd it Venus' glass:
143 There might you see the gods in sundry shapes,
144 Committing heady riots, incest, rapes:
145 For know, that underneath this radiant flower
146 Was Danae's statue in a brazen tower,
147 Jove slyly stealing from his sister's bed,
148 To dally with Idalian Ganimed,
149 And for his love Europa bellowing loud,
150 And tumbling with the rainbow in a cloud;
151 Blood-quaffing Mars heaving the iron net,
152 Which limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set;
153 Love kindling fire, to burn such towns as Troy,
154 Sylvanus weeping for the lovely boy
155 That now is turn'd into a cypress tree,
156 Under whose shade the wood-gods love to be.
157 And in the midst a silver altar stood:
158 There Hero, sacrificing turtles' blood,
159 Vail'd to the ground, veiling her eyelids close;
160 And modestly they opened as she rose.
161 Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head;
162 And thus Leander was enamoured.
163 Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gazed,
164 Till with the fire that from his count'nance blazed
165 Relenting Hero's gentle heart was strook:
166 Such force and virtue hath an amorous look.

167 It lies not in our power to love or hate,
168 For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.
169 When two are stript, long ere the course begin,
170 We wish that one should lose, the other win;
171 And one especially do we affect
172 Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
173 The reason no man knows, let it suffice,
174 What we behold is censur'd by our eyes.
175 Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
176 Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?
Written by Isaac Watts | Create an image from this poem

Psalm 119 part 2

 Secret devotion and spiritual-mindedness.

ver. 147,55 

To thee, before the dawning light
My gracious God, I pray;
I meditate thy name by night,
And keep thy law by day.

ver. 81 

My spirit faints to see thy grace,
Thy promise bears me up;
And while salvation long delays,
Thy word supports my hope.

ver. 164 

Seven times a day I lift my hands,
And pay my thanks to thee;
Thy righteous providence demands
Repeated praise from me.

ver. 62 

When midnight darkness veils the skies,
I call thy works to mind;
My thoughts in warm devotion rise,
And sweet acceptance find.
Written by Rudyard Kipling | Create an image from this poem

La Nuit Blanche

 A much-discerning Public hold
 The Singer generally sings
 And prints and sells his past for gold.

 Whatever I may here disclaim,
 The very clever folk I sing to
 Will most indubitably cling to
 Their pet delusion, just the same.


I had seen, as the dawn was breaking
 And I staggered to my rest,
Tari Devi softly shaking
 From the Cart Road to the crest.
I had seen the spurs of Jakko
 Heave and quiver, swell and sink.
Was it Earthquake or tobacco,
 Day of Doom, or Night of Drink?

In the full, fresh fragrant morning
 I observed a camel crawl,
Laws of gravitation scorning,
 On the ceiling and the wall;
Then I watched a fender walking,
 And I heard grey leeches sing,
And a red-hot monkey talking
 Did not seem the proper thing.

Then a Creature, skinned and crimson,
 Ran about the floor and cried,
And they said that I had the "jims" on,
 And they dosed me with bromide,
And they locked me in my bedroom --
 Me and one wee Blood Red Mouse --
Though I said: "To give my head room
 You had best unroof the house."

But my words were all unheeded,
 Though I told the grave M.D.
That the treatment really needed
 Was a dip in open sea
That was lapping just below me,
 Smooth as silver, white as snow,
And it took three men to throw me
 When I found I could not go.

Half the night I watched the Heavens
 Fizz like '81 champagne --
Fly to sixes and to sevens,
 Wheel and thunder back again;
And when all was peace and order
 Save one planet nailed askew,
Much I wept because my warder
 Would not let me sit it true.

After frenzied hours of wating,
 When the Earth and Skies were dumb,
Pealed an awful voice dictating
 An interminable sum,
Changing to a tangle story --
 "What she said you said I said" --
Till the Moon arose in glory,
 And I found her . . . in my head;

Then a Face came, blind and weeping,
 And It couldn't wipe its eyes,
And It muttered I was keeping
 Back the moonlight from the skies;
So I patted it for pity,
 But it whistled shrill with wrath,
And a huge black Devil City
 Poured its peoples on my path.

So I fled with steps uncertain
 On a thousand-year long race,
But the bellying of the curtain
 Kept me always in one place;
While the tumult rose and maddened
 To the roar of Earth on fire,
Ere it ebbed and sank and saddened
 To a whisper tense as wire.

In tolerable stillness
 Rose one little, little star,
And it chuckled at my illness,
 And it mocked me from afar;
And its breathren came and eyed me,
 Called the Universe to aid,
Till I lay, with naught to hide me,
 'Neath' the Scorn of All Things Made.

Dun and saffron, robed and splendid,
 Broke the solemn, pitying Day,
And I knew my pains were ended,
 And I turned and tried to pray;
But my speech was shattered wholly,
 And I wept as children weep.
Till the dawn-wind, softly, slowly,
 Brought to burning eyelids sleep.


Written by Isaac Watts | Create an image from this poem

Psalm 81

 v.1,8-16 
S. M.
The warnings of God to his people.

Sing to the Lord aloud,
And make a joyful noise;
God is our strength, our Savior God;
Let Isr'el hear his voice.

"From vile idolatry
Preserve my worship clean;
I am the Lord, who set thee free
From slavery and sin.

"Stretch thy desires abroad,
And I'll supply them well:
But if ye will refuse your God,
If Isr'el will rebel;

"I'll leave them," saith the Lord,
"To their own lusts a prey,
And let them run the dang'rous road,
'Tis their own chosen way.

"Yet, O! that all my saints
Would hearken to my voice!
Soon I would ease their sore complaints,
And bid their hearts rejoice.

"While I destroy their foes,
I'd richly feed my flock;
And they should taste the stream that flows
From their eternal rock."
Written by Edmund Spenser | Create an image from this poem

Sonnet 81

 Fair is my love, when her fair golden hears
with the loose wind the waving chance to mark:
fair when the rose in her red cheeks appears, 
or in her eyes the fire of love does spark.

Fair when her breast like a rich laden bark
with precious merchandise she forth doth lay:
fair when that cloud of pride, which oft doth dark
her goodly light, with smiles she drives away.

But fairest she, when so she doth display
the gate with pearls and rubies richly dight
through which her words so wise do make their way
to bear the message of her gentle spright.

The rest be works of nature's wonderment,
but this the work of heart's astonishment.
Written by Isaac Watts | Create an image from this poem

Psalm 119 part 14

 Benefit of afflictions, and support under them.

ver. 153,81,82 

Consider all my sorrows, Lord,
And thy deliv'rance send;
My soul for thy salvation faints
When will my troubles end?

ver. 71 

Yet I have found 'tis good for me
To bear my Father's rod;
Afflictions make me learn thy law,
And live upon my God.

ver. 50 

This is the comfort I enjoy
When new distress begins-
I read thy word, I run thy way,
And hate my former sins.

ver. 92 

Had not thy word been my delight
When earthly joys were fled,
My soul, oppressed with sorrow's weight
Had sunk amongst the dead.

ver. 75 

I know thy judgments, Lord, are right,
Though they may seem severe;
The sharpest suff'rings I endure
Flow from thy faithful care.

ver. 67 

Before I knew thy chast'ning rod
My feet were apt to stray;
But now I learn to keep thy word,
Nor wander from thy way.
Written by William Shakespeare | Create an image from this poem

Sonnet 81: Or I shall live your epitaph to make

 Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive when I in earth am rotten,
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die;
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombèd in men's eyes shall lie.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be your being shall rehearse
When all the breathers of this world are dead.
You still shall live—such virtue hath my pen—
Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Written by Robert Burns | Create an image from this poem

81. Song—For a' that

 THO’ 1 women’s minds, like winter winds,
 May shift, and turn, an’ a’ that,
The noblest breast adores them maist—
 A consequence I draw that.


Chorus For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
 And twice as meikle’s a’ that;
 The bonie lass that I loe best
 She’ll be my ain for a’ that.


Great love I bear to a’ the fair,
 Their humble slave, an’ a’ that;
But lordly will, I hold it still
 A mortal sin to thraw that.
 For a’ that, &c.


But there is ane aboon the lave,
 Has wit, and sense, an’ a’ that;
A bonie lass, I like her best,
 And wha a crime dare ca’ that?
 For a’ that, &c.


In rapture sweet this hour we meet,
 Wi’ mutual love an’ a’ that,
But for how lang the flie may stang,
 Let inclination law that.
 For a’ that, &c.


Their tricks an’ craft hae put me daft.
 They’ve taen me in, an’ a’ that;
But clear your decks, and here’s—“The Sex!”
 I like the jads for a’ that.
 For a’ that, &c.


 Note 1. A later version of “I am a bard of no regard” in “The Jolly Beggars.” [back]

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry