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Good Morning And Good Luck
Good morning to you! Great morning to you!
Today is a new gift from up above
For we are born again each morning we wake up
So be sincerely thankful for this gift that you have
Ma. Cristina Colima
If the sun sets for me at dawn
So that the white in me turns black
Before I shed off a single milk teeth
If I vacate that soothsome seat
Rain On Me
Dry as a dessert i am
Would you rain on me once again
I chased you down the dark corridor
I couldn't find you
Last Night I Cried!
Last night l cried!
Again I have lied not once, not twice, but more than the eyes on the dice.
Has I sit back and analyzed why do I lied.
What Wor It?
What wor it made me love thee, lass?
Aw connot tell;
Aw know it worn't for thi brass; -
Tho' poor misel
Behind him lay the gray Azores,
Behind the Gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores,
Before him only shoreless seas.
Pray For Me
She rushed into a house
darkghost where haltup
evildims where hiddown
Her room was tumultly dreadful
Saviour A Willie
A Little Prayer
Let us be thankful, Lord, for little things-
The song of birds, the rapture of the rose;
Cloud-dappled skies, the laugh of limpid springs,
Drowned sunbeams and the perfume April blows;
A Man's Prayer
A man who stayed here for a while,
Starts to seek what his heart desires,
His confused of entities he ought to know,
Whether the world might bring him sorrow.
Here alone it makes me feel bad.
Mostly when i keep thinking about the plans we had, sad.
My heart is broken, no craft maker would even fix it.
The kindest hearts pray for change
God didn't answer when it was Grey
The child inside me cried for so long
The world was actually not against me
Michael: A Pastoral Poem
If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
You will suppose that with an upright path
Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent
Again I knocked on the close door!
Again I am granted entry!
Again I pursued my goal!
Please look after her
As i had failed
To show my care
We Who Stay At Home
When you were just our little boy, on many a night we crept
Unto your cot and watched o'er you, and all the time you slept.
We tucked the covers round your form and smoothed your pillow, too,
And sometimes stooped and kissed your cheeks, but that you never knew.
Edgar Albert Guest
The Old Huntsman
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed
A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece.
'Twas a bad deal all round; and dear enough
It cost me, what with my daft management,
“Jessie, Jessie Cameron,
Hear me but this once,” quoth he.
“Good luck go with you, neighbor's son,
But I'm no mate for you,” quoth she.
I am the Empire in the last of its decline,
That sees the tall, fair-haired Barbarians pass,-the while
Composing indolent acrostics, in a style
Of gold, with languid sunshine dancing in each line.
Love entered in my heart one day,
A sad, unwelcome guest;
But when he begged that he might stay,
I let him wait and rest.
People pray to each other. The way I say 'you' to someone else,
respectfully, intimately, desperately. The way someone says
'you' to me, hopefully, expectantly, intensely ...
When twenty-one I loved to dream,
And was to loafing well inclined;
Somehow I couldn't get up steam
To welcome work of any kind.
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Alone, alone! - no other face
Wears kindred smile, kindred line;
And yet they say my mother's eyes.
They say my father's brow, is mine;
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Venus And Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
Addressed to Francis Greenleaf Allison of Burlington, New Jersey.
You scarcely need my tardy thanks,
Who, self-rewarded, nurse and tend--
John Greenleaf Whittier
Dim, as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars
To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers,
Is reason to the soul; and as on high,
Those rolling fires discover but the sky
In Virgil's Sacred Verse we find,
That Passion can depress or raise
The Heav'nly, as the Human Mind:
Who dare deny what Virgil says?
I saw a little elephant standing in my garden,
I said 'You don't belong in here', he said 'I beg you pardon?',
I said 'This place is England, what are you doing here?',
He said 'Ah, then I must be lost' and then 'Oh dear, oh dear'.
I know the song that the bluebird is singing,
Out in the apple-tree where he is swinging;
Brave little fellow, the skies may look dreary;
Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery.
Emily Huntington Miller
“He is mad as a hare, poor fellow,
And should be in chains,” you say.
I haven't a doubt of your statement,
But who isn't mad, I pray?
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Absalom And Achitophel
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin,
Before polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind,
Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd:
The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang'rous waist!
AMONG deep woods is the dismantled scite
Of an old Abbey, where the chaunted rite,
By twice ten brethren of the monkish cowl,
Was duly sung; and requiems for the soul