“When I Was One-and-Twenty” by A.E. Housman [w/ Audio]

When I was one-and-twenty
 I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
 but not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
 but keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
 No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
 I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
 Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
 And sold for endless rue."
And I am two-and-twenty,
 And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

“Invictus” by William Ernest Henley [w/ Audio]

Out of the night that covers me,
 Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
 For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
 I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
 My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
 Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
 Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
 How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
 I am the captain of my soul.

“Poet on a Mountaintop” by Shen Zhou [w/ Audio]

Art and Poem by Shen Zhou, a Ming Dynasty Artist
White clouds engird the mountain.
Stone steps climb to nothingness.
Alone, the poet leans on his staff,
 gazing into the expanse,
 and accompanies the stream:
  bamboo flute joining murmurs
  of unseen flowing water.

“A Red, Red Rose” by Robert Burns [w/ Audio]

O my Luve is like a red, red rose
 That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
 That's sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
 So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
 Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
 And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
 While the sand o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve!
 And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my Luve,
 Though it were ten thousand mile.

“Religion” by Paul Laurence Dunbar [w/ Audio]

I am no priest of crooks nor creeds, 
For human wants and human needs
Are more to me than prophets' deeds;
And human tears and human cares
Affect me more than human prayers.

Go, cease your wail, lugubrious saint!
You fret high Heaven with your plaint.
Is this the "Christian's joy" you paint?
Is this the Christian's boasted bliss?
Avails your faith no more than this?

Take up your arms, come out with me,
Let Heav'n alone; humanity
Needs more and Heaven less from thee.
With pity for mankind look 'round;
Help them to rise -- and Heaven is found.

“Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

“A Drinking Song” by William Butler Yeats [w/ Audio]

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 I sigh.

“A Noiseless Patient Spider” by Walt Whitman [w/ Audio]

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

“So We’ll Go No More a Roving” by Lord Byron [w/ Audio]

So, we'll go no more a roving
 So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
  And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
 And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
  And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
 And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
  By the light of the moon.

“Rouged Lips” by Qin Guan [w/ Audio]

Drunk, me and my boat float freely downriver.
Unfortunately, I can't stay amid the flowers.
Hazy waters sprawl; sun, countless mountains high.
Red blossoms shower downward.
I don't know how I got here.