poems66

TABLES TURNED
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you�ll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and toruble?

Books! �tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There�s more of wisdom in it.
--Willaim Wordsworth
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You smile upon your friend today,
   today his ils are over;
You hearken to the lover�s say,
   And happy is the lover.

�Tis late to hearken, late to smile,
   But better late than never:
I shall have lived a little while
   Before I die forever.
--A.E.Housman
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COME MY CELIA
Come, my Celia, let us prove,
While we can the sports of love;
Time will not he ours forever:
He at length our good will sever.
Spend not, then, his gifts in vain;
Suns that set may rise again,
But if once we lost this light,
�Tis with us perpetual night.
--Ben Jonson
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SONG OF MYSELF
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For ever aton belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
--Walt Whitman
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SONG
Let me sit in the twilight hour alone,
And muse on the lov�d ones far away,
�Till my heart hath taken the hallow�d tone,
And the spirit-like calm of the closing day.
And visiions of happiness, faded long,
Again in their beauty round me press;
While dreams, which to earlier days belong,
Steal soothingly over my loneliness!
--Eliza Action
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LISTENING
I listen to the stillness of you,
My dear, among it all;
I fell your silence touch my words as I talk,
And take them in thrall.

My words fly off a forge
The length of a spark;
I see the night-sky easily sip them
Up in the dark.
--D. H. Lawrence
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XL.
Into my heart on air that kills
   From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
   What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
   I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
   And cannot come again.
--A. E. Housman
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TO THE EVENING STAR
   Star of lover�s soft interviews,
Parted lovers on thee muse;
Their remembrancer in heaven
   Of thrilling vows thou art,
Too delicious to be riven
   By absence from the heart.
--Thomas Campbell