Since our concern was speech, and speech impelled us To purify the dialect of the tribe And urge the mind to aftersight and foresight, Let me disclose the gifts reserved for age To set a crown upon your lifetime's effort. First, the cold fricton of expiring sense Without enchantment, offering no promise But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit As body and soul begin to fall asunder. Second, the conscious impotence of rage At human folly, and the laceration Of laughter at what ceases to amuse. And last, the rending pain of re-enactment Of all that you have done, and been; the shame Of things ill done and done to others' harm Which once you took for exercise of virtue. Then fools' approval stings, and honour stains. From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.
I am not eager to rehearse
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Here take my picture
Elegy V: His Picture by Dr John Donne Here take my picture; though I bid farewell Thine, in my heart, where my soul dwells, shall dwell. ’Tis…
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Pea Brush
Pea Brush by Robert Frost I walked down alone Sunday after church To the place where John has been cutting trees To see for myself about the…
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Two poems by e.e.cummings
Summer Silence Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro Above the heights of immemorial hills; Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe Limply…
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