Sonnet 42---Petrarch

The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers, Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers, Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winters going; The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers Of love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers And trembles; nature is filled to overflowing… The spring returns, but there is no returning Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning! She that unlocked all April in a breath Returns not…And these meadows, blossoms, birds These lovely gentle girls—words, empty words As bitter as the black estates of death!

Shakespeare’s Sonnet Sequence

SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate:Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines,By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;But thy eternal summer shall not fadeNor lose possession of that fair thou owest;Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not loveWhich alters when it alteration finds,Or bends with the remover to remove:O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken;It is the star to every wandering bark,Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Laura de Noves

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.   If this be error and upon me proved,   I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

SONNET 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips' red;If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks.I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat music hath a far more pleasing sound;I grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare   As any she belied with false compare.

TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME.by Robert Herrick

GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,     Old time is still a-flying : And this same flower that smiles to-day     To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,     The higher he's a-getting,The sooner will his race be run,     And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,     When youth and blood are warmer ; But being spent, the worse, and worst     Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,     And while ye may go marry : For having lost but once your prime     You may for ever tarry.

To Be, or not to Be from Hamlet

To be, or not to be--that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep-- No more--and by a sleep to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep-- To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprise of great pitch and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now, The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered.

She should have died hereafter from Macbeth

She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time,And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing

Death be not proud

John Donne 

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee  

Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,  

For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,  

Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.  

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,          5

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,  

And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,  

Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.  

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,  

And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,   10

And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,  

And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;  

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,  

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Bible Passages in Preparation for Milton

Job

Prologue

1In the land of Uz there lived a man whose name was Job. This man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil. 2He had seven sons and three daughters, 3and he owned seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five

hundred yoke of oxen and five hundred donkeys, and had a large number of servants. He was the greatest man among all the people of the East.

4His sons used to take turns holding feasts in their homes, and they would invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them. 5When a period of feasting had run its course, Job would send and have them purified. Early in the morning he would sacrifice a burnt offering for each of them, thinking, “Perhaps my children have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.” This was Job’s regular custom.

Job’s First Test

6One day the angelsa came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satanb also came with them. 7The Lord said to Satan, “Where have you come from?”

Satan answered the Lord, “From roaming through the earth and going back and forth in it.”

8Then the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.”

9“Does Job fear God for nothing?” Satan replied. 10“Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land. 11But stretch out your hand and strike everything he has, and he will surely curse you to your face.”

12The Lord said to Satan, “Very well, then, everything he has is in your hands, but on the man himself do not lay a finger.”

Then Satan went out from the presence of the Lord.

13One day when Job’s sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, 14a messenger came to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the donkeys were grazing nearby, 15and the Sabeans attacked and carried them off. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

16While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The fire of God fell from the sky and burned up the sheep and the servants, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

17While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and carried them off. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

18While he was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house,

19when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

20At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship 21and said:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

and naked I will depart.c

The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;

may the name of the Lord be praised.”

22In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.

Gospel of Matthew

Jesus Is Tested in the Wilderness

4 Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted[a] by the devil. 2 After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. 3 The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”4 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’[b]”5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. 6 “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:“‘He will command his angels concerning you,    and they will lift you up in their hands,    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’[c]”7 Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’[d]”8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. 9 “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”10 Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’[e]”11 Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.

Genesis

The Fall

3 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3 but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’”4 “You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. 5 “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.8 Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden. 9 But the LORD God called to the man, “Where are you?”10 He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.”11 And he said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?”12 The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”13 Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?”The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this,“Cursed are you above all livestock    and all wild animals!You will crawl on your belly    and you will eat dust    all the days of your life.15 And I will put enmity    between you and the woman,    and between your offspring[a] and hers;he will crush[b] your head,    and you will strike his heel.”16 To the woman he said,“I will make your pains in childbearing very severe;    with painful labor you will give birth to children.Your desire will be for your husband,    and he will rule over you.”17 To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat from it,’“Cursed is the ground because of you;    through painful toil you will eat food from it    all the days of your life.

18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you,    and you will eat the plants of the field.19 By the sweat of your brow    you will eat your fooduntil you return to the ground,    since from it you were taken;for dust you are    and to dust you will return.”20 Adam[c] named his wife Eve,[d] because she would become the mother of all the living.21 The LORD God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them. 22 And the LORD God said, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” 23 So the LORD God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. 24 After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side[e] of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.

Revelation

The Thousand Years

20 And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven, having the key to the Abyss and holding in his hand a great chain. 2 He seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil, or Satan, and bound him for a thousand years. 3 He threw him into the Abyss, and locked and sealed it over him, to keep him from deceiving the nations anymore until the thousand years were ended. After that, he must be set free for a short time […]

The Judgment of Satan

7 When the thousand years are over, Satan will be released from his prison 8 and will go out to deceive the nations in the four corners of the earth—Gog and Magog—and to gather them for battle. In number they are like the sand on the seashore. 9 They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God’s people, the city he loves. But fire came down from heaven and devoured them. 10 And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever.

The Fall of Satan from Paradise Lost John Milton 

            Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit             Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste             Brought death into the world, and all our woe,             With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 5          Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 

            Sing, Heavenly Muse, that on the secret top             Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire             That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed             In the beginning how the Heavens and Earth 10         Rose out of Chaos; or if Sion hill            Delight thee more, and Siloa’s brook that flowed             Fast by the oracle of God, I thence             Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,             That with no middle flight intends to soar 15         Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues             Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.            And chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer             Before all temples the upright heart and pure,             Instruct me, for thou know’st; thou from the first 20        Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread             Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast abyss             And mad’st it pregnant: what in me is dark             Illumine, what is low raise and support;             That to the height of this great argument 25         I may assert Eternal Providence,             And justify the ways of God to men.             Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,             Nor the deep tract of Hell, say first what cause             Moved our grand parents in that happy state, 30         Favored of Heaven so highly, to fall off             From their Creator, and transgress his will             For one restraint, lords of the world besides?             Who first seduced them to that foul revolt?             The infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile, 35         Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived             The mother of mankind, what time his pride             Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host             Of rebel angels, by whose aid aspiring             To set himself in glory above his peers, 40         He trusted to have equaled the Most High,             If he opposed; and with ambitious aim             Against the throne and monarchy of God,             Raised impious war in Heaven and battle proud             With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 45         Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky             With hideous ruin and combustion down             To bottomless perdition, there to dwell             In adamantine chains and penal fire,             Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. 50         Nine times the space that measures day and night             To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 

            Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf,             Confounded though immortal. But his doom             Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought 55         Both of lost happiness and lasting pain             Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes,             That witnessed huge affliction and dismay             Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate.             At once as far as angels ken he views 60         The dismal situation waste and wild:             A dungeon horrible on all sides round             As one great furnace flamed, yet from those flames             No light, but rather darkness visible             Served only to discover sights of woe, 65         Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace             And rest can never dwell, hope never comes             That comes to all; but torture without end             Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed             With ever-burning sulfur unconsumed: 70         Such place Eternal Justice had prepared             For those rebellious, here their prison ordained             In utter darkness, and their portion set             As far removed from God and light of Heaven             As from the center thrice to the utmost pole. 75         O how unlike the place from whence they fell!             There the companions of his fall, o’erwhelmed             With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,             He soon discerns, and weltering by his side             One next himself in power, and next in crime, 80         Long after known in Palestine, and named             Beelzebub. To whom the Arch-Enemy,             And then in Heaven called Satan, with bold words             Breaking the horrid silence thus began:             “If thou beest he—but O how fallen!    how changed85         From him, who in the happy realms of light            Clothed with transcendent brightness didst outshine            Myriads though bright—if he whom mutual league,            United thoughts and counsels, equal hope            And hazard in the glorious enterprise,90         Joined with me once, now misery hath joined            In equal ruin: into what pit thou seest            From what height fallen! so much the stronger proved            He with his thunder; and till then who knew            The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,95         Nor what the potent Victor in his rage            Can else inflict, do I repent or change,            Though changed in outward luster, that fixed mind

            And high disdain, from sense of injured merit,            That with the Mightiest raised me to contend,100     And to the fierce contention brought along            Innumerable force of spirits armed            That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,            His utmost power with adverse power opposed            In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven,105     And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?            All is not lost; the unconquerable will,            And study of revenge, immortal hate,            And courage never to submit or yield:            And what is else not to be overcome? 110     That glory never shall his wrath or might            Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace            With suppliant knee, and deify his power            Who from the terror of this arm so late            Doubted his empire, that were low indeed,115     That were an ignominy and shame beneath            This downfall; since by fate the strength of gods            And this empyreal substance cannot fail,            Since through experience of this great event,            In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,120     We may with more successful hope resolve            To wage by force or guile eternal war            Irreconcilable to our grand Foe,            Who now triumphs, and in the excess of joy            Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.”125      So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain,            Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair;            And him thus answered soon his bold compeer:            “O Prince, O Chief of many thronèd Powers,            That led the embattled Seraphim to war130      Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds            Fearless, endangered Heaven’s perpetual King,            And put to proof his high supremacy,            Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate;            Too well I see and rue the dire event,135     That with sad overthrow and foul defeat            Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host            In horrible destruction laid thus low,            As far as gods and heavenly essences            Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains140      Invincible, and vigor soon returns,            Though all our glory extinct, and happy state            Here swallowed up in endless misery.            But what if he our Conqueror (whom I now

            Of force believe almighty, since no less145     Than such could have o’erpowered such force as ours)            Have left us this our spirit and strength entire            Strongly to suffer and support our pains,            That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,            Or do him mightier service as his thralls150      By right of war, whate’er his business be,            Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire,            Or do his errands in the gloomy deep?            What can it then avail, though yet we feel            Strength undiminished, or eternal being155      To undergo eternal punishment?”            Whereto with speedy words the Arch-Fiend replied:            “Fallen Cherub, to be weak is miserable,            Doing or suffering: But of this be sure,            To do aught good never will be our task,160      But ever to do ill our sole delight,            As being the contrary to his high will            Whom we resist. If then his providence            Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,            Our labor must be to pervert that end,165      And out of good still to find means of evil;            Which ofttimes may succeed, so as perhaps            Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb            His inmost counsels from their destined aim.            But see the angry Victor hath recalled170      His ministers of vengeance and pursuit            Back to the gates of Heaven; the sulfurous hail            Shot after us in storm, o’erblown hath laid            The fiery surge, that from the precipice            Of Heaven received us falling, and the thunder,175      Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage,             Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now            To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.            Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn            Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.180     Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild,            The seat of desolation, void of light,            Save what the glimmering of these livid flames            Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend            From off the tossing of these fiery waves,185      There rest, if any rest can harbor there,            And reassembling our afflicted powers,            Consult how we may henceforth most offend            Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,190      How overcome this dire calamity,

            What reinforcement we may gain from hope,            If not, what resolution from despair.”            Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate            With head uplift above the wave, and eyes            That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides,195      Prone on the flood, extended long and large,            Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge            As whom the fables name of monstrous size,            Titanian or Earth-born, that warred on Jove,            Briareos or Typhon, whom the den200      By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast            Leviathan, which God of all his works            Created hugest that swim the ocean stream:            Him haply slumbering on the Norway foam,            The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff,205      Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell,            With fixèd anchor in his scaly rind            Moors by his side under the lee, while night            Invests the sea, and wishèd morn delays:            So stretched out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay210     Chained on the burning lake; nor ever thence            Had risen or heaved his head, but that the will            And high permission of all-ruling Heaven            Left him at large to his own dark designs,            That with reiterated crimes he might215      Heap on himself damnation, while he sought            Evil to others, and enraged might see            How all his malice served but to bring forth            Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy shown            On man by him seduced, but on himself220     Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured.            Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool            His mighty stature; on each hand the flames            Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and rolled            In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale.225      Then with expanded wings he steers his flight            Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air            That felt unusual weight, till on dry land            He lights, if it were land that ever burned            With solid, as the lake with liquid fire;230     And such appeared in hue, as when the force            Of subterranean wind transports a hill            Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side            Of thundering Etna, whose combustible            And fueled entrails thence conceiving fire,235     Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds,

            And leave a singèd bottom all involved            With stench and smoke: such resting found the sole            Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate,            Both glorying to have scaped the Stygian flood240      As gods, and by their own recovered strength,            Not by the sufferance of supernal power.            “Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,”            Said then the lost Archangel, “this the seat            That we must change for Heaven, this mournful gloom245     For that celestial light? Be it so, since he            Who now is sovereign can dispose and bid            What shall be right: farthest from him is best,            Whom reason hath equaled, force hath made supreme            Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields,250     Where joy forever dwells! Hail, horrors! hail,            Infernal world! and thou, profoundest Hell,            Receive thy new possessor; one who brings            A mind not to be changed by place or time.            The mind is its own place, and in itself255     Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.            What matter where, if I be still the same,            And what I should be, all but less than he            Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least            We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built260     Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:            Here we may reign secure, and in my choice            To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:            Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.            But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,265     The associates and copartners of our loss,            Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool,            And call them not to share with us their part            In this unhappy mansion, or once more            With rallied arms to try what may be yet270     Regained in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell?

"The Lamb"from Songs of Innocence

  "The Tyger"from Songs of Experience

Little Lamb who made thee  Dost thou know who made theeGave thee life & bid thee feed.

  Tyger Tyger. burning bright,In the forests of the night:What immortal hand or eye,Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.

By the stream & o'er the mead;Gave thee clothing of delight,Softest clothing wooly bright;Gave thee such a tender voice,Making all the vales rejoice:  Little Lamb who made thee  Dost thou know who made thee

  Little Lamb I'll tell thee,  Little Lamb I'll tell thee:He is called by thy name,For he calls himself a Lamb:He is meek & he is mild,He became a little child:I a child & thou a lamb,We are called by his name.  Little Lamb God bless thee.  Little Lamb God bless thee.

-William Blake

Burnt the fire of thine eyes!On what wings dare he aspire!What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,Could twist the sinews of thy heart?And when thy heart began to beat,What dread hand? & what dread feet?What the hammer? what the chain,In what furnace was thy brain?What the anvil? what dread grasp,Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spearsAnd water'd heaven with their tears:Did he smile his work to see?Did he who made the Lamb make thee?Tyger, Tyger burning bright,In the forests of the night:What immortal hand or eye,Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Songs of InnocenceThe Chimney Sweeper

 WHEN my mother died I was very young,And my father sold me while yet my tongueCould scarcely cry ‘’weep! ’weep! ’weep! ’weep!’So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep. There’s little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,         5

That curl’d like a lamb’s back, was shav’d: so I said

‘Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head’s bareYou know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.’ And so he was quiet, and that very night,As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!—         1

0

That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,Were all of them lock’d up in coffins of black. And by came an Angel who had a bright key,And he open’d the coffins and set them all free;Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run,         1

5

And wash in a river, and shine in the sun. Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind;And the Angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy,He’d have God for his father, and never want joy.         2

0

 And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,And got with our bags and our brushes to work.Tho’ the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm;So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.

Songs of ExperienceThe Chimney-sweeper

 A LITTLE 1 black thing among the snow,Crying ‘’weep! ’weep!’ in notes of woe!‘Where are thy father and mother, say?’—‘They are both gone up to the Church to pray. ‘Because I was happy upon the heath,         5

And smil’d among the winter’s snow,They clothèd me in the clothes of death,And taught me to sing the notes of woe. ‘And because I am happy and dance and sing,They think they have done me no injury,         1

0

And are gone to praise God and His Priest and King,Who make up a Heaven of our misery.’

-William Blake

Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802Earth has not anything to show more fair:Dull would he be of soul who could pass byA sight so touching in its majesty:This City now doth, like a garment, wearThe beauty of the morning; silent, bare,Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lieOpen unto the fields, and to the sky;All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.Never did sun more beautifully steepIn his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!The river glideth at his own sweet will:Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;And all that mighty heart is lying still!

William Wordsworth

The World is Too Much With Us

 

by William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;Little we see in Nature that is ours;We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;The winds that will be howling at all hours,And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,For this, for everything, we are out of tune;It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather beA pagan suckled in a creed outworn;So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

She walks in Beauty  

SHE walks in beauty, like the night  

  Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  

And all that 's best of dark and bright  

  Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  

Thus mellow'd to that tender light          5

  Which heaven to gaudy day denies.  

One shade the more, one ray the less,  

  Had half impair'd the nameless grace  

Which waves in every raven tress,  

  Or softly lightens o'er her face;   10

Where thoughts serenely sweet express  

  How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

 

 And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,  

  So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,  

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,   15

  But tell of days in goodness spent,  

A mind at peace with all below,  

  A heart whose love is innocent!

George Gordon, Lord Byron

Ozymandias

Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land,Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bareThe lone and level sands stretch far away.

 

When I have Fears that I may cease to be

John Keats  

WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be  

Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,  

Before high pil`d books, in charact'ry,  

Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;  

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,          5

Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,  

And feel that I may never live to trace  

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;  

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!  

That I shall never look upon thee more,   10

Never have relish in the faery power  

Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore  

  Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,  

  Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

ULYSSESAlfred, Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Matched with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel; I will drink life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed

Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those that loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vexed the dim sea. I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known---cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honored of them all--- And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end. To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life! Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains; but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. This is my son, my own Telemachus, To whom I leave the scepter and the isle--- Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill This labor, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and through soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centered in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine. There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail; There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me--- That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads---you and I are old; Old age hath yet his honor and his toil. Death closes all; but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks; The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends. 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down; It may be that we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are--- One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. 1842

My Last DuchessBy Robert Browning

That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf’s hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said “Fra Pandolf” by design, for never read Strangers like you that pictured countenance, The depth and passion of its earnest glance, But to myself they turned (since none puts by The curtain I have drawn for you, but I) And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst, How such a glance came there; so, not the first Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not Her husband’s presence only, called that spot Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say, “Her mantle laps Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or “Paint Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat.” Such stuff Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart—how shall I say?— too soon made glad,

Too easily impressed; she liked whate’er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, ’twas all one! My favour at her breast, The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace—all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame This sort of trifling? Even had you skill In speech—which I have not—to make your will Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss, Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse— E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose Never to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt, Whene’er I passed her; but who passed without Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive. Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet The company below, then. I repeat, The Count your master’s known munificence Is ample warrant that no just pretense Of mine for dowry will be disallowed; Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though, Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity, Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!