Sleep and Poetry (Extract.)
Stanzas to Augusta
Sub Pondere Crescit Summer Storm
Supplication for Guidance, A. (Transla- tion from Michael Angelo.) Sustaining Power of Love, The . Sweet Singer of Israel, The. (Saul) Sympathy with the Lower Animals. (The Winter Walk at Noon.).
Winter Walk at Noon, The. (Extract.) Wolsey's Advice to Cromwell. (Henry VIII.)
SHORT READINGS FROM ENGLISH
The Consoling and Sustaining Power of Beauty.
A THING of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth, Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in; and clear rills That for themselves a cooling covert make 'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms: And such too is the grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead; All lovely tales that we have heard or read: An endless fountain of immortal drink, Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences For one short hour; no, even as the trees That whisper round a temple become soon Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon, The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast, That, whether there be shine, or gloom o'ercast, They alway must be with us, or we die.
The Sustaining Power of Love.
WHEN in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee; and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate : For thy sweet love remembered, such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings. W. SHAKESPEARE.
JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in ; Time, you thief! who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in.
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad ;
Say that health and wealth have missed me ;
Say I'm growing old, but add
Jenny kissed me !
I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company.
I gazed and gazed-but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought :
For oft when on my couch I lie, In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain!
How it clatters along the roofs,
Like the tramp of hoofs !
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout!
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