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The Love Of The Fog

on top of the mountain
she sees how the fog loves
the breasts of the hills

all gently covered
tenderly at night till dawn
with the linens of
the white
fog.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tamar

I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.

The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

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poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Song of Wink Star

The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008

☼ ☼

☼ Preamble

Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…

Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…

Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…

O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….

Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….

☼ The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages

☼ 1

Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.

And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.

Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.

Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.

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poem by Raj Arumugam
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Roan Stallion

The dog barked; then the woman stood in the doorway, and hearing
iron strike stone down the steep road
Covered her head with a black shawl and entered the light rain;
she stood at the turn of the road.
A nobly formed woman; erect and strong as a new tower; the
features stolid and dark
But sculptured into a strong grace; straight nose with a high bridge,
firm and wide eyes, full chin,
Red lips; she was only a fourth part Indian; a Scottish sailor had
planted her in young native earth,
Spanish and Indian, twenty-one years before. He had named her
California when she was born;
That was her name; and had gone north.
She heard the hooves and
wheels come nearer, up the steep road.
The buckskin mare, leaning against the breastpiece, plodded into
sight round the wet bank.
The pale face of the driver followed; the burnt-out eyes; they had
fortune in them. He sat twisted
On the seat of the old buggy, leading a second horse by a long
halter, a roan, a big one,
That stepped daintily; by the swell of the neck, a stallion. 'What
have you got, Johnny?' 'Maskerel's stallion.
Mine now. I won him last night, I had very good luck.' He was
quite drunk, 'They bring their mares up here now.
I keep this fellow. I got money besides, but I'll not show you.'
'Did you buy something, Johnny,
For our Christine? Christmas comes in two days, Johnny.' 'By
God, forgot,' he answered laughing.
'Don't tell Christine it's Christmas; after while I get her something,
maybe.' But California:
'I shared your luck when you lost: you lost me once, Johnny, remember?
Tom Dell had me two nights
Here in the house: other times we've gone hungry: now that
you've won, Christine will have her Christmas.
We share your luck, Johnny. You give me money, I go down to
Monterey to-morrow,
Buy presents for Christine, come back in the evening. Next day
Christmas.' 'You have wet ride,' he answered
Giggling. 'Here money. Five dollar; ten; twelve dollar. You
buy two bottles of rye whiskey for Johnny.'
A11 right. I go to-morrow.'
He was an outcast Hollander; not
old, but shriveled with bad living.
The child Christine inherited from his race blue eyes, from his
life a wizened forehead; she watched
From the house-door her father lurch out of the buggy and lead
with due respect the stallion
To the new corral, the strong one; leaving the wearily breathing
buckskin mare to his wife to unharness.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Upwardly MobileBreasts

Upwardly mobile breasts
link together East and West,
occupying cyberspace
to tease, to please, as they unbrace -
spring feeding fantasy oppressed -
that gravity which, second-guessed,
would temper passions. These, apace,
grow, flow with honey, milk, chased chaste.

Man, mammal mammary obsessed,
manhandles, memory manifests
'I' level interest interface_
_sings [t]issues in both good, poor taste,
can't displace attention best
focused elsewhere, soul possessed
by magnet tandem ride, slim waist,

upwardly mobile, undepressed.
D stands for Double bubble laced,
succulence symetric spaced
to dot eyes until life’s digressed
by bridal bridle, dispossessed.

Upwardly mobile breasts -
down and out, or corset pressed,
pear or apple pair set pace.
Fancy free, corset compressed
holding out or, on request,
outstanding assets in life's quest.
'Eye...cons' which, since time, showcased,
imagination ever graced.

Man, mental midget, seems impressed
by mammoth mountains, curves which crest
from chest to rib-cage, touching base
with fancy's fables few detest.
Fun bags balloon 'bove Everest,
peak projections never rest,
[c]rush hour preoccupations taste
angst lest dream disintegrates.

Upwardly mobile breasts -
in the pink, admired with zest, -
swift soar above the commonplace,
'To wit' says one, 'To woo I'll case
the joint to free restraints! ' 'Obsessed! '
replies the other, 'feathered nest.'
Some, spread, taut drawn to taunt Time's haste,
lest silly cones should run to waste.

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Bridal of Pennacook

We had been wandering for many days
Through the rough northern country. We had seen
The sunset, with its bars of purple cloud,
Like a new heaven, shine upward from the lake
Of Winnepiseogee; and had felt
The sunrise breezes, midst the leafy isles
Which stoop their summer beauty to the lips
Of the bright waters. We had checked our steeds,
Silent with wonder, where the mountain wall
Is piled to heaven; and, through the narrow rift
Of the vast rocks, against whose rugged feet
Beats the mad torrent with perpetual roar,
Where noonday is as twilight, and the wind
Comes burdened with the everlasting moan
Of forests and of far-off waterfalls,
We had looked upward where the summer sky,
Tasselled with clouds light-woven by the sun,
Sprung its blue arch above the abutting crags
O'er-roofing the vast portal of the land
Beyond the wall of mountains. We had passed
The high source of the Saco; and bewildered
In the dwarf spruce-belts of the Crystal Hills,
Had heard above us, like a voice in the cloud,
The horn of Fabyan sounding; and atop
Of old Agioochook had seen the mountains'
Piled to the northward, shagged with wood, and thick
As meadow mole-hills,—the far sea of Casco,
A white gleam on the horizon of the east;
Fair lakes, embosomed in the woods and hills;
Moosehillock's mountain range, and Kearsarge
Lifting his granite forehead to the sun!

And we had rested underneath the oaks
Shadowing the bank, whose grassy spires are shaken
By the perpetual beating of the falls
Of the wild Ammonoosuc. We had tracked
The winding Pemigewasset, overhung
By beechen shadows, whitening down its rocks,
Or lazily gliding through its intervals,
From waving rye-fields sending up the gleam
Of sunlit waters. We had seen the moon
Rising behind Umbagog's eastern pines,
Like a great Indian camp-fire; and its beams
At midnight spanning with a bridge of silver
The Merrimac by Uncanoonuc's falls.

There were five souls of us whom travel's chance
Had thrown together in these wild north hills
A city lawyer, for a month escaping
From his dull office, where the weary eye

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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Vision of Columbus – Book 3

Now, twice twelve years, the children of the skies
Beheld in peace their growing empire rise;
O'er happy realms, display'd their generous care,
Diffused their arts and soothd the rage of war;
Bade yon tall temple grace the favourite isle.
The gardens bloom, the cultured valleys smile,
The aspiring hills their spacious mines unfold.
Fair structures blaze, and altars burn, in gold,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And heave imperial Cusco to the sky;
From that fair stream that mark'd their northern sway,
Where Apurimac leads his lucid way,
To yon far glimmering lake, the southern bound,
The growing tribes their peaceful dwellings found;
While wealth and grandeur bless'd the extended reign,
From the bold Andes to the western main.
When, fierce from eastern wilds, the savage bands
Lead war and slaughter o'er the happy lands;
Thro' fertile fields the paths of culture trace,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
While various fortune strow'd the embattled plain,
And baffled thousands still the strife maintain,
The unconquer'd Inca wakes the lingering war,
Drives back their host and speeds their flight afar;
Till, fired with rage, they range the wonted wood,
And feast their souls on future scenes of blood.
Where yon blue summits hang their cliffs on high;
Frown o'er the plains and lengthen round the sky;
Where vales exalted thro' the breaches run;
And drink the nearer splendors of the sun,
From south to north, the tribes innumerous wind,
By hills of ice and mountain streams confined;
Rouse neighbouring hosts, and meditate the blow,
To blend their force and whelm the world below.
Capac, with caution, views the dark design,
From countless wilds what hostile myriads join;
And greatly strives to bid the discord cease,
By profferd compacts of perpetual peace.
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Leaves the deep confines of the temple wall;
In whose fair form, in lucid garments drest,
Began the sacred function of the priest.
In early youth, ere yet the genial sun
Had twice six changes o'er his childhood run,
The blooming prince, beneath his parents' hand,
Learn'd all the laws that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,

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poem by Joel Barlow
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The Four Seasons : Autumn

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
Nitrous prepared; the various blossom'd Spring
Put in white promise forth; and Summer-suns
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows,
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow;
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving through the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song.
But she too pants for public virtue, she,
Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra weighs in equal scales the year;
From Heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook
Of parting Summer, a serener blue,
With golden light enliven'd, wide invests
The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise,
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds
A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.
Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain:
A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air
Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.
Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;
The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun
By fits effulgent gilds the illumined field,
And black by fits the shadows sweep along.
A gaily chequer'd heart-expanding view,
Far as the circling eye can shoot around,
Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power!
Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain;
Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life:
Raiser of human kind! by Nature cast,
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
With various seeds of art deep in the mind

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poem by James Thomson
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The Four Seasons : Summer

From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
And ever fanning breezes, on his way;
While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring
Averts her blushful face; and earth, and skies,
All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves.
Hence, let me haste into the mid-wood shade,
Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom;
And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink
Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak
Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large,
And sing the glories of the circling year.
Come, Inspiration! from thy hermit-seat,
By mortal seldom found: may Fancy dare,
From thy fix'd serious eye, and raptured glance
Shot on surrounding Heaven, to steal one look
Creative of the Poet, every power
Exalting to an ecstasy of soul.
And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend,
In whom the human graces all unite:
Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart;
Genius, and wisdom; the gay social sense,
By decency chastised; goodness and wit,
In seldom-meeting harmony combined;
Unblemish'd honour, and an active zeal
For Britain's glory, liberty, and Man:
O Dodington! attend my rural song,
Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line,
And teach me to deserve thy just applause.
With what an awful world-revolving power
Were first the unwieldy planets launch'd along
The illimitable void! thus to remain,
Amid the flux of many thousand years,
That oft has swept the toiling race of men,
And all their labour'd monuments away,
Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course;
To the kind-temper'd change of night and day,
And of the seasons ever stealing round,
Minutely faithful: such the All-perfect hand!
That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole.
When now no more the alternate Twins are fired,
And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze,
Short is the doubtful empire of the night;
And soon, observant of approaching day,
The meek'd-eyed Morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint-gleaming in the dappled east:
Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow;
And, from before the lustre of her face,

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poem by James Thomson
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Fourth Book

THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'

So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Among the Hills

PRELUDE
ALONG the roadside, like the flowers of gold
That tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,
Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,
And the red pennons of the cardinal-flowers
Hang motionless upon their upright staves.
The sky is hot and hazy, and the wind,
Vying-weary with its long flight from the south,
Unfelt; yet, closely scanned, yon maple leaf
With faintest motion, as one stirs in dreams,
Confesses it. The locust by the wall
Stabs the noon-silence with his sharp alarm.
A single hay-cart down the dusty road
Creaks slowly, with its driver fast asleep
On the load’s top. Against the neighboring hill,
Huddled along the stone wall’s shady side,
The sheep show white, as if a snowdrift still
Defied the dog-star. Through the open door
A drowsy smell of flowers-gray heliotrope,
And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette—
Comes faintly in, and silent chorus lends
To the pervading symphony of peace.
No time is this for hands long over-worn
To task their strength; and (unto Him be praise
Who giveth quietness!) the stress and strain
Of years that did the work of centuries
Have ceased, and we can draw our breath once more
Freely and full. So, as yon harvesters
Make glad their nooning underneath the elms
With tale and riddle and old snatch of song,
I lay aside grave themes, and idly turn
The leaves of memory’s sketch-book, dreaming o’er
Old summer pictures of the quiet hills,
And human life, as quiet, at their feet.

And yet not idly all. A farmer’s son,
Proud of field-lore and harvest craft, and feeling
All their fine possibilities, how rich
And restful even poverty and toil
Become when beauty, harmony, and love
Sit at their humble hearth as angels sat
At evening in the patriarch’s tent, when man
Makes labor noble, and his farmer’s frock
The symbol of a Christian chivalry
Tender and just and generous to her
Who clothes with grace all duty; still, I know
Too well the picture has another side,—
How wearily the grind of toil goes on
Where love is wanting, how the eye and ear
And heart are starved amidst the plenitude

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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Narrative And Dramatic The Wanderings Of Oisin

BOOK I

S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.

Oisin. Sad to remember, sick with years,
The swift innumerable spears,
The horsemen with their floating hair,
And bowls of barley, honey, and wine,
Those merry couples dancing in tune,
And the white body that lay by mine;
But the tale, though words be lighter than air.
Must live to be old like the wandering moon.

Caoilte, and Conan, and Finn were there,
When we followed a deer with our baying hounds.
With Bran, Sceolan, and Lomair,
And passing the Firbolgs' burial-motmds,
Came to the cairn-heaped grassy hill
Where passionate Maeve is stony-still;
And found On the dove-grey edge of the sea
A pearl-pale, high-born lady, who rode
On a horse with bridle of findrinny;
And like a sunset were her lips,
A stormy sunset on doomed ships;
A citron colour gloomed in her hair,

But down to her feet white vesture flowed,
And with the glimmering crimson glowed
Of many a figured embroidery;
And it was bound with a pearl-pale shell
That wavered like the summer streams,
As her soft bosom rose and fell.

S. Patrick. You are still wrecked among heathen dreams.

Oisin. 'Why do you wind no horn?' she said
'And every hero droop his head?
The hornless deer is not more sad
That many a peaceful moment had,
More sleek than any granary mouse,
In his own leafy forest house
Among the waving fields of fern:
The hunting of heroes should be glad.'

'O pleasant woman,' answered Finn,
'We think on Oscar's pencilled urn,
And on the heroes lying slain

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poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Ballad of the White Horse

DEDICATION

Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?

Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?

In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.

Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.

Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.

Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.

Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.

But who shall look from Alfred's hood

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poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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That warm island submerged -那 一 座 温 暖 的 岛 沉 没 了

Translation:

[ That warm island submerged ]那 一 座 温 暖 的 岛 沉 没 了 - mulberry grove has done to 2001.10.24 13: 39 starseven0starseven0 Feng Wen the Shu

The black wave is pursuing that white-feathered bird. The white-feathered bird is unable to eliminate the terror the air, white-feathered bird's chest soon submerges in disappointed jet black Tao. That warm incomparable island, eternal submersion. That most beautiful island -- she is the brown black hair, in the eye has the children is candid -- newly passes the spring the Tai Qing breath -- blue green grass such clear fragrant candidness. This island gold and greens, most lovable island -- she is white-feathered bird's mother. That is noble, loves to the tree, the bird, the insect happy song white-feathered bird. Deep move these small lives' white-feathered birds. Now the black wave is dreadful, wants to swallow the white-feathered bird perishes. A poisonous snake, soon embezzles the lamb which goes all out to struggle. Goes all out the white-feathered bird which revolts, the forehead soon submerges in cold bone black Tao.

Suddenly, the big detonation, the big detonation, the black wave has put out the white-feathered bird. Most loves mother's son has been saved, in the world the best youth has been saved, the thunderclap writings, the electricity sword anxious thorn, compared to a steel and iron stronger was black wave to crush, was saved compared to a rose more enchanting white-feathered bird. The happiest music was saved. Is any magic weapon, has avoided your eternal submersion -- dear white-feathered bird, ' is the weapon, is the invincible spirit with the weapon which loves -- is truth this invincible weapon, arouses the white-feathered bird to give birth the courage, vigor -- this courage, the vigor, formidable to the death, truth mercy granting, turned into the startling thunderclap, the fire dodged the weapon, the scrap compared to a steel and iron stronger has been black wave, has rescued bird's arrogant -- this world non- price valuable -- that the white-feathered bird which is seized by the poisonous snake.' This truth is any, the dear white-feathered bird, forever arrived the life land center white-feathered bird, asks you to tell me to tell me. ' After I am seized by the dark night wave a while, the truth wants me, must exactly I crazily shout, I must exactly, have exactly.

Suddenly my tears flow copiously, heart rat-a-tat, from poisonous snake's stomach, rebound my chest. When my affection exhaling, I love you, I have loved has hated all people, I love you, after my tree grass flower-and-bird insect, suddenly rises the giant which is indomitable spirit, I broken am unable to withstand in mind ruins. The giant lifts up high the thunder, the hand grasps the electricity sword. I tremble am trembling for a very long time, in the strong winds small leaf is trembling. By now the truth bestowed for mine love heat flow 周 留 whole body,1,100 loves ropes -- silver light glistens the love rope, recaptures me from the black wave mouth, recaptures from poisonous Shekou, when the black wave is nipping me once more, by now my body was revolving, was revolving, was revolving. That meteor sends out the sun immediately glory, the rise, the rise, The rise, is revolving, is revolving, is revolving, likes all around oneself revolving. The brightest star winks focuses, revolves around the sun.' The white-feathered bird sings like this. Listens, ' was the great truth has rescued me, did not have the truth, I could submerge. The truth helped me to defeat the death. Restored me free and infinite is carefree. Is the truth bestows for me this lovable little darling.' Is the white-feathered bird in Le Chang. Quickly looks, that beaming white-feathered bird, brings to be saved young man's little darling, in the day is hovering, tornado same liking, sings from this to hit departs, departs, surely a pigeon, departs from the sunlight deep place, hovers, hovers, the dear white-feathered bird, my heart turned into surely a pigeon, hovers in March blue day white clouds

[ Runs away marriage ] the early morning to listen to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The father, why do you have to lose me this deceased person pit, my poor sentiment elder brother setting up around this my this cane, sentiment elder brother is in each province youth's youth, why are you called the militiaman to detain me with the gun to enter your gate. Living disperses the cane tree family booklet. Why do you have to lose me this deceased person pit. Compels me to remarry for Chou the wealthy person living corpse.

The mother, you quite cruel-heartedly does obeisance the view world sound like the pilgrim, your soft knife has killed daughter's heart, you just knelt under the daughter foot, daughter's hurried to help up mother, the daughter to see mother the eye class water splash to be a go-between the line. The daughter foot one is soft, the heart trembles, the daughter also horse glances flows the water splash to be a go-between the line. Sentiment elder brother, my mother along daddy's wish, I is not willing to see mother's sadness, has to be suitable mother's wish, has to usher in this Chou wealthy person's courtyard by the daddy. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' This wealth host family is not the person day, this wealth host family's money 800 years cannot use up, but this wealthy person does not have the sentiment, you knew the younger sister most treasures your affection. How is called the younger sister to manage, how manages. My daddy is does not get up the gambling debt, changed money with me the account also.

My daddy life is concerned about face-saving, is concerned about face-saving, unexpectedly in order to own good reputation ruin the daughter. Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The younger sister sees that to fall in love to the cuckoo intimate, remembered the before younger sister to enter the bamboo grove to climb, selected the small oil lamp to meet you to go me home. The at that time I the daddy like you, day in day out every one with a your group. The at that time I the daddy have not stained gamble this abuse. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.'

Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The cuckoo, I did not dare to want to get down, did not dare to want to get down. How do I to result in me sentiment elder brother, how do I have a face see me sentiment elder brother. The magpie, my daddy is pig iron, what wants to make to have to make what, who also pulls this pig iron not curved. My daddy in order to gamble on defends the credit, is living disperses daughter's family booklet, my daddy was considered as emperor which on gambled. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. I like hating to occur simultaneously, like hating daddy any matter all to want to struggle first. Right, the cuckoo, my daddy does gambles this misdemeanor works as first, before my daddy likes helping the person also to work as first. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao.

A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' Otherwise before how is my daddy sure to specially to like me sentiment elder brother. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. I inherited my daddy to like struggling the first temperament, I loved me mother in 远 远 近 近 the border, I was in the loyal son daughter first. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao.

A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together. Cuckoo, when I was thinking when I have been suitable mother's heart, my heart extremely is happy, therefore I hear your Qi Huanming. When I thought I brought to sentiment elder brother to be obsolete, I heard your uneven wail. You said how is called me to manage, how manages, sometimes I as soon as was thinking my mother, the daddy, I alone on with fantasy in mother, the daddy speaks. Sometimes I as soon as was thinking my sentiment elder brother, I alone on speaks with fantasy in sentiment elder brother. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. Who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. This black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, at that time younger sister arrogant, merry, at that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. Has very many times, I on the life in the fantasy, that wealthy person came back me not to know. That wealthy person after is common I in to speak, often puts out a hand the daddy which pulls in my illusion, mother, pulls in my illusion sentiment elder brother, for this my sober Bai Xingai that wealthy person - 活 阎 王 many ear and the area around it, 活 阎 王 said I intentionally pay no attention to his this household head. 活 阎 王 meets the person to say my brain malfunctioned.

I meet the martial arts, that 活 阎 王 hits only me, asks the person to aim at my chest with the gun, bundled me gets up. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The younger sister sees that to fall in love to the cuckoo intimate, remembered the before younger sister to enter the bamboo grove to climb, selected the small oil lamp to meet you to go me home. I just rubbed broke the bunch of my rope, you looked I am hit cut and bruised, I had to escape this living hell. In this world, I am do not dare to go home see my mother, sees me to injury like this, my mother does not irritate also fine the big sickness. My wound also is flowing the blood, I have already spread haemostatics to the wound. I already should suffer the evil person hungry three nights which is cut to pieces three days.

Endures, endures, if not were thinking must implicate me the daddy and mother, I really want to put a flare this living hell 烧 完 . Endures, endures, endures this wonderful huge shame, that incessant sea cannot clean in my mind the shame. Quickly runs away, quickly runs away, in the sky has resounded the startling thunderclap, weakly to extremely me, suddenly cheered the storm to rip open has imprisoned me the jail. I have become god of god of freedom the freedom, quick, quickly runs away to mine sentiment elder brother, quick, quick, quick, quick, quickly overtakes the footsteps which that fire dodges, listens, listens, the angry thunder greatly exploded in the sky, I have thrown down and broken in this room all antiques jade carving, the rumour suddenly in each place sound, the fire glistened more and more quickly, in my wilderness 逃 奔 , the cloud layer, was jumping over the pressure to be lower, suddenly a big thunderclap greatly exploded in the top of the head, free, the liberation joyful thunder greatly exploded in my mind, The big detonation, my heart finally lived, my heart thump rat-a-tat jumped not good frightens very much, in my wilderness was dashing, the electric light dashed about wildly on Ono.

The storm comes, the storm comes, listens, the might invincible storm has swayed all, the earth also had to swing as if by the storm turns. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. I barefoot, in the lightning is running, the bang rumble, in the big detonation thunderclap is running, excited, trembles, also happy fears my crazy corona head, my positive image is escaping the reins the wild horse, dashes about wildly, dashes about wildly, dashes about wildly to that chaotic rain in dark deep place, god of the my this freedom is holding the mood which takes the blame and to infinite is happy crazily yearned for, flew this hump under, I was making a pilgrimage to a famous mountain temple fly, in that storm had a lamp, I knew that was a lamp which my sentiment elder brother selected, my sentiment elder brother was looking at the written thing.

My this rain person, is flying to mine sentiment elder brother, flies, flies, I am shouting loudly, I am shouting loudly, I 悲 喜 交 加 the tear, I 悲 喜 交 加 the tear, collected into the delightful storm, collected into the delightful storm, my unprecedented love was bringing complete universe calm wild with joy, was bringing throughout history calm wild with joy, my unprecedented love, was bringing complete universe calm wild with joy, was bringing throughout history calm wild with joy, my this rain person, was flying to mine sentiment elder brother, flew,

Flies the first draft to 2,002,11,4,4 finalizes a manuscript to 2002,11,4,7, [ 牛 郎 and 织 女 ] narrative poem Feng Wen the Shu - mulberry grove makes the first draft to 2,007, the Yuan,9,11,40 finalizes a manuscript to 2007, the Yuan,10,5,12

If commits suicide by fire the phoenix regenerates from the ashes, your that if the katydid, the blue cicada, the cuckoo trembles the heart to confuse the soul singing sound, causes me regenerates from pain and in the lonely grave. Expels the cold eternal universe dark night fiery dawn positive -- your this 织 女 , just and your six elder sisters swim in the lake, either the leap or steps on, pursues the entertainment, you and eldest sister water play. That mysterious water buffalo teaches I steals 织 女 clothes, very quick, I want 织 女 to throw embroider the ball to me, very quick, my this poor king had found 织 女 , may the stabbing pain young girls heart, cover the young girls not to be able to look my non- Qian Wushi. By now, my heart crazily jumped awfully, the blood has caught fire, I had to leap the universe to be wild with joy 绝 顶 , I went out the flowering shrubs which that hid, under the shore weeping willow's thick patch of grass which the dynasty swayed fly, stole 织 女 Bai Ruxue women's clothing. Let me stretch out the arms, Russia 织 女 the hug, I vainly hoped for I with 织 女 , 男 耕 女 织 am good. I must arrive outside Wan Zhongshan the Qingshui Jiang to go immediately, when - 织 女 swims while God most my daughter, steals its upper and lower garments, causes it to be unable the great power, then tries moves 织 女 the heart of a young woman.

That mysterious water buffalo only then tells me, said the God seven females, Chang Yong in that continually Qingshui Jiang's big lake, but this time roll of thunder, cloud burst, but who can know, in this moment my mind pain startling thunderclap, also must 凶 猛 than the space startling thunderclap, this beautiful hope is my weekend, arouses in my mind the long crazy painful startling thunderclap, wants the scrap as if my chest, I calm endure am dying to my big bombing. '

The revenge, the revenge, I must to your this pain revenge, ' in I dazzling electric light roar. I seized in my mind to spit 连 珠 the great thunder tiger's tail, ' now you must repay owe my debt, this debt -- was you has given me to die with deeply grieved, this moment, you had to turn heavy Gan Mi immediately the huge life and are happy, otherwise, I had to hang you on the universe big tree show the audiences '. I very good have used painful this great thing, with mine infinite pain, heavily created 蜜 甜 to be able to press turns the great ship the happy song, waits for big lake which I found 织 女 swims, after has stolen 织 女 the clothing, 织 女 was unable to fly the heavenly palace, by now I had to use this happy happy song moved 织 女 looking upon with favor, this time, after I recited this songer, my eye turned has burst into tears the spring, my mind 转 流 tear spring. ' This I intend to have by no means with the dark cloud female celestial match rain, truly is my revelry and proud, turned into the bead tears immediately, leaves my eye, the mind, has been in flood the universe, is more vast than the storm. After I create mine boundless pain distress Cheng Zheizhi to be happy heavily to Taishan's this happy song, by now, I got a light from another light dodge the female celestial to say like this. The thunder sound writings, unceasingly the big storm, three days, this might king's anger has not rested, although the beautiful hope has taken to me 1,000 deaths, but I still was longing for mystical distant place Gan Huang 织 女 , hopes to spin 织 女 very quickly becomes my forever mandarin duck companion wild goose partner's forever home to return to, the forever affiliation consoles, listens to the water buffalo to say, 织 女 was best, is beautiful 丽 都 , lively, temperate female celestial, my heart has flown black Wan Zhongshan, is inquiring to that day in star 织 女 arrives the world in the big lake to swim for a long time.

I have dreamed of by now heavily happy 织 女 , I have seized the smooth element arm which runs swiftly 织 女 , lets me lie down in your bosom, after I just like this said, the sudden dream broke, after happy has had the new pain, by now in my mind, was born a new painful tiger, this painful tiger, continued puts out the new 连 珠 great thunder, in that universe the thunderclap, the storm has not stopped, this, compared to in the nature big thunder also 凶 猛 my mind pain thunder, formerly also wanted wild 凶 猛 than, inexhaustible death, Has seized my mind, a wolf has seized a lamb as if, my mind, calm is enduring the inexhaustible death to my big bombing. By now, I longed for dissipated immediately surpasses me to endure patiently the limit the pain, but I 无 计 可 施 , only easily to use sang to summon me 织 女 , ' 织 女 , 织 女 ...... '

With the similar tonality, my lover's fine reputation is a strongman as if, can lift the body which I pitiful not helps, causes it not to submerge in the universe bottomless misery abyss, I on use to sing like this to summon my lover -- 织 女 , 织 女 ...... By now my lover's fine reputation was happy, the mysterious medicinal ointment, pastes in the mind which I broken is unable to withstand, the beautiful paper-cut window decoration pastes on the glass, reduced my pain, I on use to sing like this to summon my lover -- 织 女 , 织 女 ...... My lover 甘 美 the mysterious fine reputation, pastes in the mind which I broken is unable to withstand, the beautiful paper-cut window decoration pastes on the glass, reduced my pain, I on like this continuous with sing to summon my lover -- 织 女 , 织 女 ...... Had not known for a long time, that beautiful mercy small dream god has closed my eye, I had forgotten I receive painful this capital punishment, hovers in is peaceful, tranquil, delightful dream god state, the white pigeon hovers in the blue sky. New day has come, after the storm opens expands the heart the most beautiful weather, Lin Yejian the bird calls happily, is cheerful, may everywhere have the flowered tree to hang the tear, sighs woefully own many children, has been taken away by the storm the life. I ran swiftly that broken old thatched hut, I happy was calling, ' I free, I was free, That has gone into seclusion to in the earth under rock fire to dodge, comes out in a big hurry, I must use the fire to dodge make the place to ride, I must fly immediately to me 织 女 the side go, by now, I faced under the earth the rock loudly to yell, tend sheep the female dynasty pure white flock of sheep loudly to yell. My water buffalo is carrying me and my son, flew upwards, flies upwards that Baihe River's big wave to block the way, might the water buffalo Russia Russia get sick by now, was unable to fly a wave to inundate the cloud the Milky Way, cried, cried, I loudly wept bitterly, tear Tao collected into roars the milky way, let the milky way be more majestic. Listens, listens, could not open tearful eyes me which feels pain, by now heard to swing the soul happy immortal to be happy - ' comes, to let us be Liang for you, helped your fathers and sons to go to the heavenly palace to see 织 女 , ' surely only glistened the silver light green green magpie simultaneous like this sprinkled to me 甘 美 yelling, the timely rain. ' Lives, lives, ' I loudly cheer, under was the wave which the anger eats delicacies, I am pulling the son which just the academic society walked, in feather soft, was warm can run on the horse-drawn vehicle happy magpie bridge to front, to front, to front.

Acrobat in steel wire to front, to front, to front, ' Lingers with the heavenly palace compares, between my spouse, the world also has many misery, pitiful, alone, unfortunate person, I must arrive the world to help the distressed. The love is not a matter which my life only must do, ' by now, I 织 女 like this said to flower month equally sweet E. ' I lift both hands to approve you greatly rescue the misery the enterprise, ' opens the mouth nine to smile 织 女 said like this with the thrush bird sweet voice. ' Thank you to help me to frustrate your father, your father wanted me to become lost, but you gave my chicken feather, the change big cockerel, in each road fork, in each road fork, referred to the road for me, enable me to return to your side, your father deceived on me the danger danger Pine height thousand feet, the result I has not plunged to death and starves to death, was you beforehand gives my cloth to do 软 梯 , helped me to get down the tree, your father put the fire, had to burn me dies, you which had the foreknowledge gives me a big crab, Was this big crab has dug a water pool, I hid in the water pool, I have not only then thrown oneself burn down die. ' I to 织 女 said. ' Don't such said that, rescues you rescues I, ' 织 女 this soft and gentle words are bringing thousand barrels honey as if, took root in on my mind earth, 枸 tree's seed, took root on the earth, how do you speak, sing are also sweeter than ours honey, the envy honeybee said like this to me, ' the present, we might be loaf, looked, our this honeybee family, already yours speech and the song, collected in our spatial honey barrel, regarded as the match honey. We do not need in the wind to come in again the rain, when is severely cold or the intense summer heat, is the pollen, is tired out from the press.' '

Is I is flawless 织 女 , gives the sacred infinite sentiment I, this infinite sentiment and 织 女 thousand time of loves delight, in my mind, turned a super honeybee, therefore, my speech and the song honey has only then died you, lets you regenerate in the servant dream - you wants to be my family the servant. Really strange, is really strange, is not really has this matter.' After I said like this, honeybee queen and her subjects nods in abundance. I and 织 女 am charmed am not having to the high benevolent nature, the mystical nature has given me the life by the significance, the wisdom and the inexhaustible creativity is my spirit eternal life strut, is my first propelling force. ' With the nature compared to, your father too was small 渺 . You to my value, exceed your father's royal crown, but congealed your my painstaking care my happy song, exceeds the world all royal crowns.' I sit facing each other in front of ours thatched hut window 织 女 said like this. I 织 女 long live, I 织 女 long live, after I cheer like this, to 织 女 , around that Lin Niaoye sends out happy calls, that fog locks in the mountain valley newly passes cuckoo miserable crying out in grief. ' I am forming in one's mind to give to the beautiful nature the song, lets us arrive nature there to sojourn for a long time. ' I to am loving 织 女 said. ' Right, I also like this thought, on the belt you newly do the song makes the gift, gives to the nature.' I and 织 女 pray for heavenly blessing the nature, hopes the nature forever freely, the health, is cheerful happy Makes the lamp oil - god lamp with yours belief Feng Wen the Shu - mulberry grove does ' Selects the lamp to come, makes the lamp oil with yours belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquers the lamp lights, that swing which opens to your body inside is weeping and wailing don't again in the wave crest heavy load sad ship, ' lives in seclusion under the earth bursts into tears in the spring prophet to shout like this with the rock magma stress. ' lamp comes, makes the lamp oil with yours belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquers the lamp lights, that swing which opens to your body inside is weeping and wailing don't again in the wave crest heavy load sad ship, ' lives in seclusion under the earth bursts into tears in the spring prophet to shout like this with the rock magma stress. ' lamp comes, makes the lamp oil with your immortal belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquers the lamp lights, looked, but also does not need that rigid steel fork on the waist to hang all over the cask to patrol the sea green eyebrow 狼 眼 demon to break your chest to pull out your heart to make the food and wine, looked, you both do not have the shield and not to have the copper hammer the heart to expose in front of the demon eye, that demon face up is drinking, then just put in compared to a earth on mountain peak bigger demon the hand the space in the star kingdom, picked 99 stars sea equally big eyes to drink, This demon disliked food and wine insufficient, your 103 despair heart weeping and wailing, waits on the child compared to on liquor to smile without doubt shouted can cause the demon murderous intention, that just drank the next 108 barrels liquors the eye to shut hits the sleepy demon to approach as if own 100 that to sit the eye 103 hearts which finally forcefully opened arrow of on the desire inflamed cries to feel pain, the situation extremely was dangerous, by now, that demon picture grasped a peanut equally to grasp 103 hearts which the angry glare looked at each other, put on inside the gold table white jade plate, This demon unexpectedly must set up a tablet, will commemorate must make the food and wine in a moment 103 hearts, this demon will be grinding ink, by now ' went out bursts into tears the spring prophet to say like this, suddenly will draw out a pen from the sleeve, will out to kill the demon to that darkness in which loudly will roar to throw, will throw like the youth David's stone to giant song advantage Asia, only will see in an instant the thunderclap writings, will have the household utensils to bump the garrulous sound, this pen unexpectedly will change to makes the copper hammer which 103 shields and 103 pairs will glisten, will appear in the numerous hearts hand, this moment, will kill the sound writings, Suddenly,1,000 凶 恶 bigger demons rush, the demon is every time overthrown by the copper hammer, has the new 100 demons to come to reenforce, By now, was killing in the inextricably involved universe battlefield Russia 甫 to transmit the intense armed force drum sound, accompanied majestically is shocking hills the thunderclap, the more exciting armed force bugle call, that crazy dance fire dodged on the combat tank suddenly rolled down for the numerous hearts increase strength swings the chest the aid stress - ' to select the lamp to come, made the lamp oil with your immortal belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquered the lamp lights, and had to win the will with the desperately spirit to make your lamp the spirit, 话 音 刚 落 , that decision victory and defeat already 103 lamp bowls which lights, Illuminates this dark vast boundless battlefield, in each lamp suddenly jumps out the invincible wise brave warrior which 10,000 grasps the thunderclap, originally the will which and had to win the oneself desperately spirit compels into on the very 凶 猛 numerous hearts the lamp bowl, compelled into like Sun Wukong 昊 昊 the magical powers secret inside own memory rock, in each lamp suddenly jumped out the invincible wise brave warrior which 10,000 grasped the thunderclap, originally by now obtained brave warrior's aid on the very 凶 猛 numerous hearts which in the god lamp jumped out, simply was like the tiger adds the wing, by now, Only sees 1.03 million great is identical when to the demon chest throws, likes athlete's discus to throw after the hill, only sees at the same time which the dazzling electric light as soon as dodges,1.03 million big detonations great identical time scrap 1.03 million demons chests, the thunderclap rumbling rumbling has been disturbing the earth, throws oneself the rosefinch star by the thunder vibration sea water alienation, the Xuanwu star, the black dragon star, the white tiger star... This time, calmly carefreely and the brave warriors has changed in the grand fight holiday numerous hearts - has changed big -- with giant is same than numerous hearts the demon and the brave warrior compares, that demons simply are the ant equally diminutive ant - and the brave warrior compare with the giant same numerous hearts, By now, the war already was near the end, is killed by the copper hammer the demon, at least some 90,000, then by the great thunder scrap demon, some 9.27 million, only some several demons runs away to that twilight horizon, was having the demon which 90,000 fears trembled to kneel is lifting both hands to the numerous hearts and the brave warriors surrenders, some hearts closely pursued the demon which that ran away, Selects the lamp to come, makes the lamp oil with yours belief

poem by Starseven0 Starseven0
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The Door Of Humility

ENGLAND
We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand
The How and Why of such as He;

But natured only to rejoice
At every sound or sign of hope,
And, guided by the still small voice,
In patience through the darkness grope;

Until our finer sense expands,
And we exchange for holier sight
The earthly help of voice and hands,
And in His light behold the Light.

I

Let there be Light! The self-same Power
That out of formless dark and void
Endued with life's mysterious dower
Planet, and star, and asteroid;

That moved upon the waters' face,
And, breathing on them His intent,
Divided, and assigned their place
To, ocean, air, and firmament;

That bade the land appear, and bring
Forth herb and leaf, both fruit and flower,
Cattle that graze, and birds that sing,
Ordained the sunshine and the shower;

That, moulding man and woman, breathed
In them an active soul at birth
In His own image, and bequeathed
To them dominion over Earth;

That, by whatever is, decreed
His Will and Word shall be obeyed,
From loftiest star to lowliest seed;-
The worm and me He also made.

And when, for nuptials of the Spring
With Summer, on the vestal thorn
The bridal veil hung flowering,
A cry was heard, and I was born.

II

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poem by Alfred Austin
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Seventh Book

'THE woman's motive? shall we daub ourselves
With finding roots for nettles? 'tis soft clay
And easily explored. She had the means,
The moneys, by the lady's liberal grace,
In trust for that Australian scheme and me,
Which so, that she might clutch with both her hands,
And chink to her naughty uses undisturbed,
She served me (after all it was not strange,;
'Twas only what my mother would have done)
A motherly, unmerciful, good turn.

'Well, after. There are nettles everywhere,
But smooth green grasses are more common still;
The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud;
A miller's wife at Clichy took me in
And spent her pity on me,–made me calm
And merely very reasonably sad.
She found me a servant's place in Paris where
I tried to take the cast-off life again,
And stood as quiet as a beaten ass
Who, having fallen through overloads, stands up
To let them charge him with another pack.

'A few months, so. My mistress, young and light,
Was easy with me, less for kindness than
Because she led, herself, an easy time
Betwixt her lover and her looking-glass,
Scarce knowing which way she was praised the most.
She felt so pretty and so pleased all day
She could not take the trouble to be cross,
But sometimes, as I stooped to tie her shoe,
Would tap me softly with her slender foot
Still restless with the last night's dancing in't,
And say 'Fie, pale-face! are you English girls
'All grave and silent? mass-book still, and Lent?
'And first-communion colours on your cheeks,
'Worn past the time for't? little fool, be gay!'
At which she vanished, like a fairy, through
A gap of silver laughter.
'Came an hour
When all went otherwise. She did not speak,
But clenched her brows, and clipped me with her eyes
As if a viper with a pair of tongs,
Too far for any touch, yet near enough
To view the writhing creature,–then at last,
'Stand still there, in the holy Virgin's name,
'Thou Marian; thou'rt no reputable girl,
'Although sufficient dull for twenty saints!
'I think thou mock'st me and my house,' she said;
'Confess thou'lt be a mother in a month,

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Fifth Book

AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,
Who, in a rush of too long prisoned flame,
Their radiant faces upward, burn away
This dark of the body, issuing on a world
Beyond our mortal?–can I speak my verse
So plainly in tune to these things and the rest,
That men shall feel it catch them on the quick,
As having the same warrant over them
To hold and move them, if they will or no,
Alike imperious as the primal rhythm
Of that theurgic nature? I must fail,
Who fail at the beginning to hold and move
One man,–and he my cousin, and he my friend,
And he born tender, made intelligent,
Inclined to ponder the precipitous sides
Of difficult questions; yet, obtuse to me,–
Of me, incurious! likes me very well,
And wishes me a paradise of good,
Good looks, good means, and good digestion!–ay,
But otherwise evades me, puts me off
With kindness, with a tolerant gentleness,–
Too light a book for a grave man's reading! Go,
Aurora Leigh: be humble.
There it is;
We women are too apt to look to one,
Which proves a certain impotence in art.
We strain our natures at doing something great,
Far less because it's something great to do,
Than, haply, that we, so, commend ourselves
As being not small, and more appreciable
To some one friend. We must have mediators

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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