I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD by William Wordsworth (1770-1850) 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 daffodil; 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 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. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- HYMN TO THE NIGHT by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,-- From those deep cisterns flows. O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before! Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care And they complain no more. Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer! Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair, best-beloved Night! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by Lord George Gordon Byron (1788-1824) She walks in Beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! 1814, 1815 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY by Walt Whitman Once I pass'd through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions, Yet now of all that city I remember only a woman I casually met there who detain'd me for love of me, Day by day and night by night we were together-- all else has long been forgotten by me, I remember I say only that woman who passionately clung to me, Again we wander, we love, we separate again, Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go, I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and tremulous. 1860, 1861 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A learned man came to me Soon, too soon, were we once. Where my eyes were useless, He said, "I know the way-- And I knew not the ways come." of my feet. And I was overjoyed at this. I clung to the hand of my Together we hastened. friend; But at last he cried, "I am lost." -Stephen Crane --------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by Robert Frost (1874-1963) Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. 1916 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- AH VASTNESS OF PINES by Pablo Neruda (English Translation) Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking, slow play of lights, solitary bell, twilight falling in your eys, toy doll, earth-shell, in whom the earth sings! In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them as you desire, and you send it where you will. Aim my road on your bow of hope and in a frenzy I will free my flock of arrows. On all sides I see your waist of fog, and your silence hunts down my afflicted hours; my kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests in you with your arms of transparent stone. Ah your mysterious voice that love tolls and darkens in the resonant and dying evening! Thus in deep hours I have seen, over the fields, the ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Your life is but a masquerade. You do only as you are bade. Your deceitful word will come to you, When all discover they are not true. Your game is everything you can hold. Your heart was never made of gold. You never had the will or a way To have control of the game you play. You are the puppet left from you hand. You can't pull yourself from the quicksand. You will never know that your desire Is what will take you to your pyre. -Amanda Cordingley (October 11, 1996) -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The deepest love is my desire. Burn will this love with endless fire. Of two hearts will this love be. Many part who cannot see a shared love can only be. -Amanda Cordingley (January 22, 1997) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love is patient; love is kind. Love is the best thing, you could ever find. Love can be deceiving; love can lead astray. To find the truest love, there is a price you have to pay. You have to be hurt, left with no one to trust. Will you ever go on? Life tells you, you must. What will become of your broken heart? You feel empty inside and feel torn apart. Will you ever return to the way you were before? You must strive on, only to be hurt once more. -Shane A. Foster '97 -------------------------------------------------------------------------- What is true love? Does anyone know? I've been hurt may times, My heart filled with woe. Why can't we accept What destiny gives? We all try to fight it, Everyone who lives. Our lives fall apart, Just to be built again. We are hurt by so much In this world we live in. Everything is changing. Nothing ever stays the same. I lose another face; I forget another name. But loves stay forever In this heart of mine. It fills up with more love, Like a glass full of wine. And now I am faced With a love that is true. What do I say to her? And just what do I do? -Shane A. Foster '97 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- We all have ignorance. Is it by choice, or merely by chance? Endlessly circles this mindless dance. -Amanda Cordingley (1997) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love for me seems to be that which flows beneath a thin surface. Sometimes there are cracks in the surface, and the tears of love seep out of those cracks. But the cold of distance that cracked the ice seals the surface which keeps the love beneath it. -Amanda Cordingley (July 14, 1997)