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you have no enemies you say


          * * * 
Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1554)

The longer life - the more offence,
The more offence, the greater paine,
The greater paine, the lesse defence,
The lesse defence, the lesser gaine.

To A Kiss

Humid seal of soft affections,
Tend'rest pledge of future bliss,
Dearest tie of young connections,
Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.

Speaking silence, dumb confession,
Passion's birth, and infants' play,
Dove-like fondness, chaste concession,
Glowing dawn of brighter day.

Sorrowing joy, adieu's last action,
Ling'ring lips, -- no more to join!
What words can ever speak affection
Thrilling and sincere as thine!

( by Robert Burns)

Stay My Charmer


Stay my charmer, can you leave me? 
Cruel, cruel to deceive me; 
Well you know how much you grieve me; 
Cruel charmer, can you go! 
Cruel charmer, can you go! 

By my love so ill-requited, 
By the faith you fondly plighted, 
By the pangs of lovers slighted, 
Do not, do not leave me so! 
Do not, do not leave me so!
( by Robert Burns)

Twilight   J.G. Byron

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale"s high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers" vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word;
And gentle winds and waters near,
Make music to the lovely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
 and in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softy dark, and darkly pure,
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

BY RUDYARD KIPLING









(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)






If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;   

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:



If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;   

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:



If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’



If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!


Autumn: A Dirge
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)




THE WARM sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,

The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,

            And the year

On the earth her deathbed, in a shroud of leaves dead,

            Is lying.
        
  Come, months, come away,

  From November to May,

  In your saddest array;

  Follow the bier

  Of the dead cold year,
      
And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.


The chill rain is falling, the nipt worm is crawling,

The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling

            For the year;

The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone
      
            To his dwelling;

  Come, months, come away,

  Put on white, black, and gray;

  Let your light sisters play—

  Ye, follow the bier
       
  Of the dead cold year,

And make her grave green with tear on tear.

No sun - no moon! 

No morn - no noon - 

No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day - 

No sky - no earthly view - 

No distance looking blue - 

No road - no street - no 't'other side the way' - 

No end to any Row -

 
No indications where the Crescents go - 

No top to any steeple - 

No recognitions of familiar people -

 
No courtesies for showing 'em - 

No knowing 'em - 

No travelling at all - no locomotion, 

No inkling of the way - no notion - 
'

No go' - by land or ocean - 

No mail - no post - 

No news from any foreign coast - 

No Park - no Ring - no afternoon gentility - 

No company - no nobility - 

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, 

No comfortable feel in any member - 

No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, 

No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, - 

November!         

(  by Thomas Hood)







If I Had But Two Little Wings.



"If I Had But Two Little Wings," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834), is recommended by a number of teachers and school-girls.







If I had but two little wings
⁠

And were a little feathery bird,
⁠

To you I'd fly, my dear!

But thoughts like these are idle things
⁠

And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:
⁠

I'm always with you in my sleep!
⁠

The world is all one's own.

 And then one wakes, and where am I?
⁠

All, all alone.


Samuel T. Coleridge.


Answer to a Child's Question








Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772 - 1834








Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove,
The Linnet and Thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent—the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving—all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he—
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me!"















The Rainy Day






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Goodbye To Summer - Poem by David Kush








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As the green leaves of September
Turn golden in the October sun
Summer starts to close it's eyes
For It's time to say goodbye
To give way to fall 
With all of her glorious colors
Before the cold winds of winter
Turn the world dark and gray
Leaving us just memories of happier days
When life was full with no regrets
Hoping that the coming spring
Will bring a new life 
To look forward too
Once again 


David Kush