Dodo Says

ِA bunch of poems that I love

Posted on: May 15, 2010

Here’s a tiny list of poems that I cherish and love:

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

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 oft’ 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 fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest 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.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

MADAM, withouten many words,

   Once I am sure ye will or no:

And if ye will, then leave your bords,           

   And use your wit, and show it so.

And with a beck you shall me call,          

   And if of one that burneth alway

Ye have any pity at all,

   Answer him fair with yea or nay.

If it be yea, I shall be fain;            

   If it be nay, friends as before;

Ye shall another man obtain,

   And I mine own and yours no more.

HE long love that in my thought doth harbour,          

   And in mine heart doth keep his residence,

   Into my face presseth with bold pretence,

   And therein campeth, spreading his banner.

She that me learneth to love and suffer,

   And wills that my trust and lust’s negligence

   Be reined by reason, shame, and reverence,

   With his hardiness taketh displeasure.

Wherewithal, unto the heart’s forest he fleeth,

   Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry;

   And there him hideth, and not appeareth.

What may I do when my master feareth

   But in the field with him to live or die?

   For good is the life, ending faithfully.

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