Sweet Peril by George MacDonald

                   Sweet Peril

Alas, how easily things go wrong!
A sigh too much, or a kiss too long,
And there follows a mist and a weeping rain,
And life is never the same again. 

Alas, how hardly things go right!
‘Tis hard to watch in a summer night,
For the sigh will come, and the kiss will stay,
And the summer night is a wintry day. 

And yet how easily things go right,
If the sigh and a kiss of a summer’s night
Come deep from the soul in the stronger ray
That is born in the light of the winter’s day.

And things can never go badly wrong
If the heart is true and the love be strong,
For the mist, if it comes, and the weeping rain
Will be changed by the love into sunshine again.

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To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell

(Photo credit: ToniVC)

            To His Coy Mistress

    Had we but World enough, and Time,
This coyness Lady were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long Loves Day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges side
Should’st Rubies find: I by the Tide
Of Humber would complain.  I would
Love you ten years before the Flood:
And you should if you please refuse
Till the Conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable Love should grow
Vaster than Empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze,
Two hundred to adore each Breast:
But thirty thousand to the rest.
An Age at least to every part,
And the last Age should show your Heart.
For Lady you deserve this State;
Nor would I love at lower rate. 

   But at my back I always hear
Times winged Chariot hurrying near:
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast Eternity.
Thy Beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble Vault, shall sound
My echoing Song: then Worms shall try
That long preserv’d Virginity:
And your quaint Honour turn to dust;
And into ashes all my Lust.
The Grave’s a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace. 

   Now therefore, while the youthful hew
Sits on thy skin like morning dew
And while thy willing Soul transpires
At every pore with instant Fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am’rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our Time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp’d pow’r.
Let us roll all our Strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one Ball:
And tear our Pleasures with rough strife,
Thorough the Iron gates of Life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we shall make him run.

 

 

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Spring by Thomas Nashe

Spring

Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
   Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 

The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
   Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
    Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
             Spring! the sweet Spring!

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photo by purplepic at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mpI1Mp8/Baby+Lambs

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For Those Who Fail by Joaquin Miller

              For Those Who Fail

“All honor to him who shall win the prize,”
The world has cried for a thousand years;
But to him who tries and fails and dies,
I give great honor and glory and tears.

O great is the hero who wins a name,
But greater many and many a time,
Some pale-faced fellow who dies in shame,
And lets God finish the thought sublime.

And great is the man with the sword undrawn,
And good is the man who refrains from wine;
But the man who fails and yet fights on,
Lo! he is the twin-born brother of mine!

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The Pillar Of The Cloud by John Henry Newman

The Pillar Of The Cloud

Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom;
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet: I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on,
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone;
And with the morn, those angel faces smile
Which have loved long since, and lost awhile.

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photo by Robby M at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meZxnxq/Clouds

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In Time Of Plague by Thomas Nashe

    In Time Of Plague

Adieu, farewell, earth’s bliss!
This world uncertain is:
Fond are life’s lustful joys,
Death proves them all but toys.
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die –
Lord, have mercy on us.

Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade;
All things to end are made;
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die –
Lord, have mercy on us.

Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the hair;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen’s eye:
I am sick, I must die –
Lord, have mercy on us.

Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate;
Earth still holds ope her gate;
Come,come! the bells do cry –
I am sick, I must die –
Lord, have mercy on us.

Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death’s bitterness;
Hell’s executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply;
I am sick, I must die –
Lord, have mercy on us.

Haste, therefore, each degree
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage;
Earth but a player’s stage;
Mount we unto the sky;
I am sick, I must die –
Lord, have mercy on us.

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Roadways by John Masefield

(Photo credit: sirwiseowl)

Roadways

One road leads to London,
One road runs to Wales,
My road leads me seawards
To the white dipping sails.

One road leads to the river,
As it goes singing slow;
My road leads to shipping,
Where the bronzed sailors go.

Leads me, lures me, calls me
To salt green tossing sea;
A road without earth’s road-dust
Is the right road for me.

A wet road heaving, shining,
And wild with seagull’s cries,
A mad salt sea-wind blowing
The salt spray in my eyes.

My road calls me, lures me
West, east, south, and north;
Most roads lead men homewards,
My road leads me forth

To add more miles to the tally
Of grey miles left behind
In quest of that one beauty
God put me here to find.

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Ashes Of Life by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Portrait of Edna St. Vincent Millay (1933-01-14) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

                                 Ashes Of Life

Love has gone and left me, and the days are all alike.
Eat I must, and sleep I will – and would that night were here!
But ah, to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!
Would that it were day again, with twilight near!

Love has gone and left me, and I don’t know what to do;
This or that or what you will is all the same to me;
But all the things that I begin I leave before I’m through –
There’s little use in anything as far as I can see.

Love has gone and left me, and the neighbors knock and borrow,
And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse.
And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow
There’s this little street and this little house.

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A Last Appeal by Frederick W.H. Myers

                   A Last Appeal 

O somewhere, somewhere, God unknown,
Exist and be!
I am dying; I am all alone;
I must have Thee!
God! God! my sense, my soul, my all,
Dies in the cry: -
Saw’st thou the faint star flame and fall?
Ah! it was I.

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Columbus by Joaquin Miller

Image via Wikipedia

 

               Columbus

Behind him lay the gray Azores,
Behind the Gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores;
Before him only shoreless seas.
The good mate said: “Now must we pray,
For lo! the very stars are gone.
Brave Adm’r’l, speak!  What shall we say?”
“Why, say: ‘Sail on! sail on! and on!’”

“My men grow mutinous day by day;
My men grow ghastly, wan and weak.”
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
“What shall I say, brave Adm’r’l, say,
If we sight naught but seas at dawn?”
“Why, you shall say at break of day:
‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’”

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,
Until at last the blanched mate said:
“Why, now not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Adm’r’l, speak and say —“
He said: “Sail on! sail on! and on!”

They sailed.  They sailed.  Then spake the mate:
“This mad sea shows his teeth tonight.
He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
He lifts his teeth as if to bite!
Brave Adm’r’l, say but one good word:
What shall we do when hope is gone?”
The words leapt like a leaping sword:
“Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!”

Then pale and worn, he paced his deck,
And peered through darkness.  Ah, that night
Of all dark nights!  And then the speck –
A light!  A light!  At last a light!
It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!
It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn.
He gained a world; he gave the world
Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!”

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