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Songs from the Plays - Fear No More the Heat o the Sun
© William Shakespeare
Fear no more the heat o the sun,
Nor the furious winters rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and taen thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Market-Night
© Robert Bloomfield
'O Winds, howl not so long and loud;
Nor with your vengeance arm the snow:
Bear hence each heavy-loaded cloud;
And let the twinkling Star-beams glow.
To the Same Purpose
© Thomas Traherne
To the same purpose: he, not long before
Brought home from nurse, going to the door
Gwine to Run All Night, or De Camptown Races
© Stephen C. Foster
De Camptown ladies sing dis song—Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camp-town race-track five miles long—Oh! doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in—Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin—Oh! doo-dah day!
Haymaking
© Edward Thomas
Aftear night’s thunder far away had rolled
The fiery day had a kernel sweet of cold,
Deola Thinking
© Cesare Pavese
Deola passes her mornings sitting in a cafe,
and nobody looks at her. Everyone’s rushing to work,
Sad Wine (II)
© Cesare Pavese
The hard thing’s to sit without being noticed.
Everything else will come easy. Three sips
Sappho
© James Wright
The twilight falls; I soften the dusting feathers,
And clean again.
The house has lain and moldered for three days.
The windows smeared with rain, the curtains torn,
The mice come in,
The kitchen blown with cold.
To Women
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Your hearts are lifted up, your hearts
That have foreknown the utter price.
Your hearts burn upward like a flame
Of splendour and of sacrifice.
The Ghost
© Richard Harris Barham
There stands a City,- neither large nor small,
Its air and situation sweet and pretty;
Our God, Our Help
© Isaac Watts
Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home:
A Child's Question
© Louisa Lawson
O, why do you weep mother, why do you weep
For baby that fell in the summer to sleep?
Sunday: New Guinea
© Ishmael Reed
The bugle sounds the measured call to prayers,
The band starts bravely with a clarion hymn,
From every side, singly, in groups, in pairs,
Each to his kind of service comes to worship Him.
Leave the Hand In
© John Ashbery
Furthermore, Mr. Tuttle used to have to run in the streets.
Now, each time friendship happens, they’re fully booked.
Happiness (Reconsidered)
© Judith Viorst
Happiness
Is a clean bill of health from the doctor,
And the kids shouldn't move back home for
more than a year,
And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre,
in a lawsuit or in traction.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church – (236)
© Emily Dickinson
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
I keep it, staying at Home –
With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
And an Orchard, for a Dome –
The Picture
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay:
Around her, flowers flattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway-
Like cavaliers who ride the king's highway-
Scarlet and buff, within a garden old.
My Emmaleen
© George Ade
Lovey, my dovey dove
Ham-bone can't compaih.
Peppehmint and wintergreen
Not so sweet as Emmaleen.
