London_Girl
Age: 124
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Four Things
FOUR things a man must learn to do If he would make his record true: To think without confusion clearly; To love his fellow man sincerely; To act from honest motives purely; To trust in God and Heaven securely.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life
AH! sweet mystery of life, at last I've found thee; Ah! I know at last the secret of it all; All the longing, striving, seeking, waiting, yearning, The burning hopes, the joys and idle tears that fall!
For 'tis love, and love alone, the world is seeking; And it's love, and love alone, that can reply; 'Tis the answer, ti's the end and all of living, For it is love alone that rules for aye!
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Two Years Later
HAS no one said those daring Kind eyes should be more learn'd? Or warned you how despairing The moths are when they are burned? I could have warned you, but you are young, So we speak a different tongue.
O you will take whatever's offered And dream that all the world's a friend. Suffer as your mother suffered, Be as broken in the end. But I am old and you are young, And I speak a barbarous tongue.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Two Songs of a Fool
I
A SPECKLED cat and a tame hare Eat at my hearthstone And seep there; And both look up to me alone For learning and defence As I look up to Providence.
I start out of my sleep to think Some day I may forget Their food and drink; Or, the house door left unshut, The hare may run till it's found The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
I bear a burden that might well try Men that do all by rule, And what can I That am a wandering-witted fool But pray to God that He ease My great responsibilities?
II
I SLEPT on my three-leged stool by the fire, The speckled cat slept on my knee; We never thought to enquire Where the brown hare might be, And whether the door were shut. Who knows how she drank the wind Stretched up on two legs from the mat, Before she had settled her mind To drum with her heel and to leap? Had I but awakened from sleep And called her name, she had heard, It may be, and not have stirred, That now, it may be, has found The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
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Men Improve with the Years
I Am worn out with dreams; A weather-worn, marble triton Among the streams; And all day long I look Upon this lady's beauty As though I had found in a book A pictured beauty, Pleased to have filled the eyes Or the discerning ears, Delighted to be but wise, For men improve with the years; And yet, and yet, Is this my dream, or the truth? O would that we had met When I had my burning youth! But I grow old among dreams, A weather-worn, marble triton Among the streams.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
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Memory
ONE had a lovely face, And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain Because the mountain grass Cannot but keep the form Where the mountain hare has lain.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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The Scholars
BALD heads forgetful of their sins, Old, learned, respectable bald heads Edit and annotate the lines That young men, tossing on their beds, Rhumed out in love's despair To flatter beauty's ignorant ear.
All shuffle there, all cough in ink; All wear the carpet with their shoes; All think what other people think; All know the man their neighbor knows. Lord, what would they say Did their Catullus walk that way?
London_Girl
Age: 124
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The Wild Swans at Coole
THE trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine-and-fifty Swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed since I, hearing at twilight, The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover, They paddle in the cold Companionable streams or climb the air; Their hearts have not grown old; Passion or conquest, wander where they will, Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water, Mysterious, beautiful; Among what rushes will they build, By what lake's edge or pool Delight men's eyes when I awake some day To find they have flown away?
London_Girl
Age: 124
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A Drinking Song
WINE comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth, I look at you, and sigh.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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Brown Penny
I WHISPERED, 'I am too young.' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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No Second Troy
WHY should I blame her that she filled my days With misery, or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways, Or hurled the little streets upon the great, Had they but courage equal to desire? What could have made her peaceful with a mind That nobleness made simple as a fire, With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind That is not natural in an age like this, Being high and solitary and most stern? Why, what could she have done, being what she is? Was there another Troy for her to burn?
London_Girl
Age: 124
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The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water
I HEARD the old, old men say, "Everything alters, And one by one we drop away." They had hands like claws, and their knees Were twisted like the old thorn trees By the waters. I heard the old, old men say, "All that's beautiful drifts away Like the waters."
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
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The Song of Wandering Aengus
I WENT out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire aflame, But something rustled on the floor, And some one called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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The Song of the Old Mother
I RISE in the dawn, and I kneel and blow Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow. And then I must scrub, and bake, and sweep, Till stars are beginning to blink and peep; But the young lie long and dream in their bed Of the matching of ribbons, the blue and the red, And their day goes over in idleness, And they sigh if the wind but lift up a tress. While I must work, because I am old And the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with the golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams beneath your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams...
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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The Sorrow of Love
THE brawling of a sparrow in the eaves, The brilliant moon and all the milky sky, And all that famous harmony of leaves, Had blotted out man's image and his cry.
A girl arose that had red mournful lips And seemed the greatness of the world in tears, Doomed like Odysseus and the labouring ships And proud as Priam murdered with his peers;
Arose, and on the instant clamorous eaves, A climbing moon upon an empty sky, And all that lamentation of the leaves, Could but compose man's image and his cry.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
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When You Are Old
WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled And paced among the mountains overhead And hid his face among a crowd of stars.
London_Girl
Age: 124
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The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evenings full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear the lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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The Rose of the World
WHO dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For those red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder may betide, Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, And Usna's children died.
We and the labouring world are passing by: Amid men's souls, that waver and give place Like the pale waters in their wintry race, Under the passing stars, foam of the sky, Lives on this lonely face.
Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode: Before you were, or any hearts to beat, Weary and kind one lingered by His seat; He made the world to be a grassy road Before her wandering feet.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
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Down by the Salley Gardens
DOWN by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree. In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
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The Falling of the Leaves
AUTUMN is over the long leaves that love us, And over the mice in the barley sheaves; Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us, And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves.
The hour of the waning of love has beset us, And weary and worn are our sad souls now; Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us, With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6853 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
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Sadness, sadness, sadness reigns supreme! My mind is sad Because others have fathomed my mind. I am sad Because I have not yet uncovered myself. My heart is sad Because it has not yet discovered God. Sadness, sadness, sadness reigns supreme!
