1. A Dream Within a Dream. by Edgar Allan Poe

Transcription

1 1. A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow: You are not wrong who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand-- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep--while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?

2 2. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost 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.

3 3. The Tyger by William Blake Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp! When the stars threw down their spears And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

4 4. Often I Ponder By Dalton Ogletree One day I may Leave impressions Questions About simple things and other dimensions With different facial expressions Paying attention In all directions With good intentions Learning lessons Because there could be no exceptions Before it all goes down the gutter And I go under Still full of wonder So much to discover Among seas and lumber During rain and thunder Can't remain in slumber Not getting any younger No good in being dumber Occasionally had one too many lagers And thought why bother? Mind beginning to wander Often I ponder Near here and over yonder Working to prosper With a lot to offer Including, reliability and honor Not getting richer By being bitter And a quitter Got to deliver On any sider of the river With much to consider Before I wither

5 5. somewhere i have never travelled by E. E. Cummings somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

6 6. Boots of Spanish Leather By Bob Dylan Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love, I'm sailin' away in the morning. Is there something I can send you from across the sea, From the place that I'll be landing? No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love, There's nothin' I wish to be ownin'. Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled, From across that lonesome ocean. Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine, Made of silver or of golden, Either from the mountains of Madrid Or from the coast of Barcelona. Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night And the diamonds from the deepest ocean, I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss, For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin'. That I might be gone a long time And it's only that I'm askin', Is there something I can send you to remember me by, To make your time more easy passin'. Oh, how can, how can you ask me again, It only brings me sorrow. The same thing I would today, I would want again tomorrow. I got a letter on a lonesome day. It was from her ship a-sailin', Saying I don't know when I'll be comin' back again. It depends on how I'm a-feelin'. Well, if you, my love, must think that-a-way, I'm sure your mind is a-roamin'. I'm sure your heart is not with me, But with the country to where you're goin'.

7 So take heed, take heed of the western wind, Take heed of the stormy weather. And yes, there's something you can send back to me, Spanish boots of Spanish leather.