Tag Archives: Common Meter

“A Shropshire Lad XXXVI” by A. E. Housman [w/ Audio]

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White in the moon the long road lies,
   The moon stands blank above;
 White in the moon the long road lies
   That leads me from my love.

Still hangs the hedge without a gust,
   Still, still the shadows stay:
 My feet upon the moonlit dust
   Pursue the ceaseless way.

The world is round, so travellers tell,
   And straight though reach the track,
 Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well,
   The way will guide one back.

But ere the circle homeward hies,
   Far, far must it remove:
 White in the moon the long road lies
   That leads me from my love.

NOTE: This poem is sometimes titled by its first line or an abbreviated form, thereof. So, it’s sometimes called: “White in the Moon the Long Road Lies.”

“First Fig” by Edna St. Vincent Millay [w/ Audio]

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My candle burns at both ends;
 It will not last the night;
 But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends --
 It gives a lovely light!

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

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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.

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

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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.

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

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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.

“The Darkling Thrush” by Thomas Hardy [w/ Audio]

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I leant upon a coppice gate
 When Frost was spectre-grey,
 And Winter's dregs made desolate
 The weakening eye of day.
 The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
 Like strings of broken lyres,
 And all mankind that haunted nigh
 Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
 The Century's corpse outleant,
 His crypt the cloudy canopy,
 The wind his death-lament. 
 The ancient pulse of germ and birth
 Was shrunken hard and dry,
 And every spirit upon earth
 Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
 The bleak twigs overhead
 In a full-hearted evensong
 Of joy illimited;
 An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
 In blast-beruffled plume,
 Had chosen thus to fling his soul
 Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
 Of such ecstatic sound
 Was written in terrestrial things
 Afar or nigh around,
 That I could think there trembled through
 His happy good-night air
 Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
 And I was unaware.

“A narrow Fellow in the Grass” (1096) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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A narrow Fellow in the Grass
 Occasionally rides --
 You may have met him? Did you not
 His notice instant is --

The Grass divides as with a Comb,
 A spotted Shaft is seen,
 And then it closes at your Feet
 And opens further on --

He likes a Boggy Acre --
 A Floor too cool for Corn --
 But when a Boy and Barefoot
 I more than once at Noon

Have passed I thought a Whip Lash
 Unbraiding in the Sun
 When stooping to secure it
 It wrinkled And was gone --

Several of Nature's People
 I know, and they know me
 I feel for them a transport 
 Of Cordiality

But never met this Fellow
 Attended or alone
 Without at tighter Breathing
 And Zero at the Bone.

Dancing Through the Graveyard [Common Meter]

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When you're dancing through the graveyard
   you'll get some angry stares.
 They'll call you "disrespectful cad"
   for failing to show care.

To be carefree won't offend ghosts;
   they'll wish they'd done the same.
 But mourners act as if, for Death,
   you are the one to blame.

Why should one hold the dance within,
   when it longs to be out?
 Why should expressing such pure glee
   be cause to point and shout?

A Strange Pain [Common Meter]

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What is this thing I never saw
   that poked me from nowhere.
 I felt a pain that dripped insane
   and gave me quite a scare.

I know it came from outside-in,
   and not from bones or brain.
 And yet it's not a break, a bruise,
   a lesion, or a sprain. 

Some demon breached a ghost portal,
   and stabbed me from hell's pit
 with an inferno-fired poker...
   oh wait, I'm fine. It quit.

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time by Robert Herrick [w/ Audio]

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Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
   Old Time is still a-flying;
 And this same flower that smiles today
   Tomorrow will be dying. 

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
   The higher he's a-getting,
 The sooner will his race be run,
   And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
   When youth and blood are warmer;
 But being spent, the worse, and worst
   Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
   And while ye may, go marry;
 For having lost but once your prime,
   You may forever tarry.