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day

Over the May Hill

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

All through the night time, and all through the day time,
Dreading the morning and dreading the night,
Nearer and nearer we drift to the May time

Peace should not come

Peace should not come along this foul, earth way.
Peace should not come, until we cleanse the path.
God waited for us; now in awful wrath
He pours the blood of men out day by day

I heard an Angel singing

I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing,
‘Mercy, Pity, Peace,
Is the world’s release.’

Thus he sung all day
Over the new mown hay,
Till the sun went down

My Sweet Brown Gal

W'en de clouds is hangin' heavy in de sky,
An' de win's 's a-taihin' moughty vig'rous by,
I don' go a-sighin' all erlong de way;
I des' wo'k a-waitin' fu' de close o' day.

At Verona

At Verona
by Oscar Wilde

HOW steep the stairs within Kings’ houses are
  For exile-wearied feet as mine to tread,
  And O how salt and bitter is the bread

Apologia

Apologia
Oscar Wilde

Is it thy will that I should wax and wane,
Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey,
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain

Poem of Joys

O TO make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!

Ah! ken ye what I met the day

Ah! ken ye what I met the day

Ah! ken ye what I met the day
Out oure the Mountains,
A-coming down by craggis grey
An mossie fountains?
Ah! goud-haired Marie yeve I pray

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