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Love And A Question: Robert Frost PDF Print E-mail
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Written by Robert Frost   
Love And A Question
by Robert Frost

A stranger came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes more than the lips
For a shelter for the night,
And he turned and looked at the road afar
Without a window light.

The bridegroom came forth into the porch
With, "Let us look at the sky,
And question what of the night to be,
Stranger, you and I."
The woodbine leaves littered the yard,
The woodbine berries were blue,
Autumn, yes, winter was in the wind;
"Stranger, I wish I knew."

Within, the bride in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought of the heart's desire.
The bridegroom looked at the weary road,
Yet saw but her within,
And wished her heart in a case of gold
And pinned with a silver pin.

The bridegroom thought it little to give
A dole of bread, a purse,
A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God,
Or for the rich a curse;
But whether or not a man was asked
To mar the love of two
by harboring woe in the bridal house,
The bridegroom wished he knew.
 
Beauty and Love: Andrew Young PDF Print E-mail
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Written by Andrew Young   
Beauty and Love
by Andrew Young

Beauty and love are all my dream;
They change not with the changing day;
Love stays forever like a stream
That flows but never flows away;

And beauty is the bright sun-bow
That blossoms on the spray that showers
Where the loud water falls below,
Making a wind among the flowers.
 
The Garden of Love: William Blake PDF Print E-mail
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Written by William Blake   
The Garden of Love
by William Blake

I went to the Garden of Love.
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Thou Shalt Not", writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore,

And I saw it filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.
 
She Walks in Beauty: George Gordon Byron PDF Print E-mail
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Written by George Gordon, Lord Byron   
She Walks In Beauty
by George Gordon, 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!


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When We Two Parted: George Gordon, Lord Byron PDF Print E-mail
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Written by George Gordon, Lord Byron   
When We Two Parted
by George Gordon, Lord Byron

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever the years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder, thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk, chill on my brow,
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me...
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well..
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
 
I Gave Myself To Him: Emily Dickinson PDF Print E-mail
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Written by Emily Dickinson   
I Gave Myself To Him
by Emily Dickinson

I gave myself to him
And took himself for pay.
The solemn contract of a life
Was ratified this way

The value might disappoint
Myself a poorer prove
Than this my purchaser suspect
The daily own of love.

Depreciates the sight
But, 'till the merchant buy,
Still fabled, in the isles of spice
The subtle cargoes lie.

At least, "'tis mutual risk"
(Some found it mutual gain)
Sweet debt of life -each night to owe,
Insolvent every noon!
 
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