A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
“A Question” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
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Tag Archives: American Literature
“A sepal, petal, and a thorn” (19) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn --
A flask of Dew -- A Bee or two --
A Breeze -- a caper in the trees --
And I'm a Rose!
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“From China” by Amy Lowell [w/ Audio]
I thought:
The moon,
Shining upon the many steps of the palace before me,
Shines also upon the chequered rice-fields
Of my native land.
And my tears fell
Like white rice grains
At my feet.
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“Now Close the Windows” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
Now close the windows and hush all the fields;
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.
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“A learned man came to me once” by Stephen Crane [w/ Audio]
A learned man came to me once.
He said, "I know the way, -- come."
And I was overjoyed at this.
Together we hastened.
Soon, too soon, were we
Where my eyes were useless,
And I knew not the ways of my feet.
I clung to the hand of my friend;
But at last he cried, "I am lost."
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“I shall go back again to the bleak shore” by Edna St. Vincent Millay [w/ Audio]
I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand,
In such a way that the extremest band
Of brittle seaweed will escape my door
But by a yard or two; and nevermore
Shall I return to take you by the hand;
I shall be gone to what I understand,
And happier than I ever was before.
The love that stood a moment in your eyes,
The words that lay a moment on your tongue,
Are one with all that in a moment dies,
A little under-said and over-sung.
But I shall find the sullen rocks and skies
Unchanged from what they were when I was young.
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“A Minor Bird” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;
Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.
The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.
And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song.
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“Soft as the massacre of Suns” (1127) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
“Patience” by Gelett Burgess [w/ Audio]
The clock will go slow
If you watch it, you know;
You must work right along and forget it.
So study your best
Till it's time for a rest,
The clock will go fast, if you let it!
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“A Carafe, that is a Blind Glass” by Gertrude Stein [w/ Audio]
A kind in glass and a cousin, a spectacle and
nothing strange a single hurt color and an
arrangement in a system to pointing. All
this and not ordinary, not unordered in not
resembling. The difference is spreading.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 