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Love Song for Lucinda

Spring in the city

I saw a crocus blooming in the park,

I felt a hint of magic in the air,

I heard faint music sighing everywhere,

And so, as all the world, grew softly dark –

 

I found again the hope that never dies,

And hungrily, with out-flung arms, I came

Once more to you. And when you spoke my name

I read springtime eternal in your eyes!

 

Buckingham Palace

See the tourists running hard

To watch the Changing of the Guard

At Buckingham Palace stop and wait,

To see the Queen drive through the gate.

But Londoners know:

There’s no use crying.

She is not at home,

When the flag is not flying.

 

The Night Has a Thousand Eyes

The night has a thousand eyes,

And the day but one;

Yet the light of the bright world dies

With the dying sun.

 

The mind has a thousand eyes,

And the heart but one;

Yet the light of a whole life dies

When love is done.

 

The Light Of a Smile

If it drizzles and pours,

Is there any reason

The weather indoors

Should be dull, like the season?

There is something makes bright

The cloudiest places;

Can you guess? 'Tis the light

Of the smiles on your faces.

 

Easy Boogie

Down in the bass

That steady beat

Walking walking walking

Like marching feet.

Down in the bass

They easy roll,

Rolling like I like it

In my soul.

Riffs, smears, breaks.

Hey, Lawdy Mama!

Do you hear what I said?

Easy like I rock it

In my bed!

 

Robin the Bobbin.

the big-bellied Ben,

He ate more meat

than fourscore men;

He ate a cow,

he ate a calf,

He ate a butcher

and a half,

He ate a church,

he ate a steeple,

He ate a priest

and all the people!

A cow and a calf,

An ox and a half,

A church and a steeple,

And all good people,

And yet he complained

that his stomach wasn't full.

 

 

Those who love the most,  
Do not talk of their love,  
Francesca, Guinevere,  
Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,  
In the fragrant gardens of heaven  
Are silent, or speak if at all  
Of fragile inconsequent things.  
   
And a woman I used to know  
Who loved one man from her youth,  
Against the strength of the fates  
Fighting in somber pride  
Never spoke of this thing,  
But hearing his name by chance,  
A light would pass over her face.  

 

The Flight of Youth

There are gains for all our losses,

There are balms for all our pain;

But when youth, the dream, departs,

It takes something from our hearts,

And it never comes again.

We are stronger, and are better,

Under manhood's sterner reign;

Still, we feel that something sweet

Followed youth, with flying feet,

And will never come again.

Something beautiful is vanished,

And we sigh for it in vain;

We behold it everywhere,



On the earth, and in the air,

But it never comes again.

 

James Joyce

All day I hear the noise of waters

Making moan,

Sad as the sea-bird is when, going

Forth alone,

He hears the winds cry to the water's

Monotone.

The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing

Where I go.

I hear the noise of many waters

Far below.

All day, all night, I hear them flowing

To and fro.

 

 

Oppression

Now dreams

Are not available

To the dreamers,

Nor songs

To the singers.

In some lands

Dark night

And cold steel

Prevail

But the dream

Will come back,

And the song

Break

Its jail.

 

Bessie's Song To Her Doll

Matilda Jane, you never look

At any toy or picture-book.

I show you pretty things in vain

You must be blind, Matilda Jane!

I ask you riddles, tell you tales,

But all our conversation fails.

You never answer me again

I fear you're dumb, Matilda Jane!

Matilda darling, when I call,

You never seem to hear at all.

I shout with all my might and main

But you're so deaf, Matilda Jane!

Matilda Jane, you needn't mind,

For, though you're deaf and dumb and blind,

There's some one loves you, it is plain

And that is me, Matilda Jane!

 

Down at the seashore,

Early in the morning.

See the little shells

All along the shore.

See the great big waves

Splashing on the shore.

When they pull back,

They leave some more.

 

50-50

I’m all alone in this world, she said,

Ain’t got nobody to share my bed,

Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand—

The truth of the matter’s

I ain’t got no man.

Big Boy opened his mouth and said,

Trouble with you is

You ain’t got no head!

If you had a head and used your mind

You could have me with you

All the time.

She answered, Babe, what must I do?

He said, Share your bed—

And your money, too.

 

Love Song for Lucinda

Love

Is a ripe plum

Growing on a purple tree.

Taste it once

And the spell of its enchantment

Will never let you be.

Love

Is a bright star

Glowing in far Southern skies.

Look too hard

And its burning flame

Will always hurt your eyes.

Love

Is a high mountain

Stark in a windy sky.

If you

Would never lose your breath

Do not climb too high

 

Invictus – William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

 

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

 

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

 

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate: 15

I am the captain of my soul.

 

 

Lingua Progress Level

 

The Gift Of Life

Life is a night all dark and wild,

Yet still stars shine:

This moment is a star, my child -

Your star and mine.

Life is a desert dry and drear,

Undewed, unblest;

This hour is an oasis, dear;

Here let us rest.

Life is a sea of windy spray,

Cold, fierce and free:

An isle enchanted is to-day

For you and me.

Forget night, sea, and desert: take

The gift supreme,

And, of life’s brief relenting, make

A deathless dream.

 

Four-Leaf Clover

I know a place where the sun is like gold,

And the cherry blooms burst with snow,

And down underneath is the loveliest nook,

Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

 

One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,

And one is for love, you know,

And God put another in for luck, -

If you search, you will find where they grow.

 

But you must have hope, and you must have faith,

You must love and be strong - and so.

If you work, if you wait, you will find the place

Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

 

 

Memory

My mind lets go a thousand things,

Like dates of wars and deaths of kings,

And yet recalls the very hour -

'Twas noon by yonder village tower,

And on the last blue noon in May -

The wind came briskly up this way,

Crisping the brook beside the road;

Then, pausing here, set down its load

Of pine-scents, and shook listlessly

Two petals from that wild-rose tree.

 

 

Horace the Horse Song

Everyone likes something nice,


Posted though their door.


It brings a big smile to their face,


As it lands upon the floor.


Postcards, parcels and packages.


Opposite Town depends,


On Horace the horse and his postal service.


Take them from the postbox,


And pop them in my sack.


Take them to the office,


And sort them in the rack.


Ready for delivery,


I'm heading into town.


I'm Opposite's postie

and I won't let you down.


Postcards, parcels and packages,


Opposite Town depends,


On Horace the horse and his postal service

 

The Noble Nature

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 sear

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.

 

Love’s Secret – William Blake

Never seek to tell thy love,

Love that never told can be;

For the gentle wind does move

Silently, invisibly.

 

I told my love, I told my love,

I told her all my heart;

Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears,

Ah! she did depart!

 

Soon as she was gone from me,

A traveler came by,

Silently, invisibly

He took her with a sigh

 

Democracy

Democracy will not come

Today, this year

Nor ever

Through compromise and fear.

I have as much right

As the other fellow has

To stand

On my two feet

And own the land.

I tire so of hearing people say,

Let things take their course.

Tomorrow is another day.

I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.

I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.

Freedom

Is a strong seed

Planted

In a great need.

I live here, too.

I want freedom

Just as you.

 

A Sick Child

The postman comes when I am still in bed.

"Postman, what do you have for me today?"

I say to him. (But really I'm in bed.)

Then he says - what shall I have him say?

"This letter says that you are president

Of - this word here; it's a republic."

Tell them I can't answer right away.

"It's your duty." No, I'd rather just be sick.

Then he tells me there are letters saying everything

That I can think of that I want for them to say.

I say, "Well, thank you very much. Good-bye."

He is ashamed, and turns and walks away.

If I can think of it, it isn't what I want.

I want . . . I want a ship from some near star

To land in the yard, and beings to come out

And think to me: "So this is where you are!

Come." Except that they won't do,

I thought of them. . . . And yet somewhere there must be

Something that's different from everything.

All that I've never thought of - think of me!

 

Acrostic

Little maidens, when you look

On this little story-book,

Reading with attentive eye

Its enticing history,

Never think that hours of play

Are your only holiday,

And that in a house of joy

Lessons serve but to annoy:

If in any house you find

Children of a gentle mind,

Each the others pleasing ever--

Each the others vexing never--

Daily work and pastime daily

In their order taking gaily--

Then be very sure that they

Have a life of holiday.

 

She walks in Beauty – Lord Byron

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

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;

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,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

 

Dream Variations

To fling my arms wide

In some place of the sun,

To whirl and to dance

Till the white day is done.

Then rest at cool evening

Beneath a tall tree

While night comes on gently,

Dark like me-

That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide

In the face of the sun,

Dance! Whirl! Whirl!

Till the quick day is done.

Rest at pale evening...

A tall, slim tree...

Night coming tenderly

Black like me.

 

Merry-Go-Round

Where is the Jim Crow section

On this merry-go-round,

Mister, cause I want to ride?

Down South where I come from

White and colored

Can't sit side by side.

Down South on the train

There's a Jim Crow car.

On the bus we're put in the back—

But there ain't no back

To a merry-go-round!

Where's the horse

For a kid that's black?

 

Morning After

I was so sick last night I

Didn’t hardly know my mind.

So sick last night I

Didn’t know my mind.

I drunk some bad licker that

Almost made me blind.

Had a dream last night I

Thought I was in hell.

I drempt last night I

Thought I was in hell.

Woke up and looked around me—

Babe, your mouth was open like a well.

I said, Baby! Baby!

Please don’t snore so loud.

Baby! Please!

Please don’t snore so loud.

You jest a little bit o’ woman but you

Sound like a great big crowd.

 

The Soldier – Rupert Brooke

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is for ever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England's, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blessed by the suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

In hearts a peace, under an English heaven.

 

 

Intermediate + Upper Intermediate

 


Date: 2016-03-03; view: 884


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