FutureShock has a nice thread going where we're asked to write a poem. It gave me the idea for a thread where we can post our favorite poems of others. Here are two of my favorites.

I discovered this first one when it was sent to me by someone very special:

The Song of Wandering Aengus

by William Butler Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream

And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire a-flame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), June 16, 2000

Answers

Sorry about the formatting. The first poem has a break after every eight lines; the second has a break after every four lines.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), June 16, 2000.

William Blake's opening stanza for 'Auguries of Innocence':

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour.

-- flora (***@__._), June 16, 2000.

Moon, Flowers, Man

I raise my cup and invite

The moon to come down from the

Sky. I hope she will accept

Me. I raise my cup and ask

The branches, heavy with flowers,

To drink with me. I wish them

Long life and promise never

To pick them. In company

With the moon and the flowers,

I get drunk, and none of us

Ever worries about good

Or bad. How many people

Can comprehend our joy? I

Have wine and moon and flowers.

Who else do I want for drinking companions?

SU TUNG P'O

-- Profound&Delicate (Chinese@Poetry.com), June 16, 2000.

When the weather's hot and sticky,

That's no time to dunk your dickie;

When the dew is on the pun'kin --

That's the time for dickie-dunkin'!

-- Jan F., circa 1974

(Well, you asked...)

-- I'm Here, I'm There (I'm Everywhere@so.beware), June 16, 2000.

seen on a college bulletin board:

She lies,

She lies.

But she is pretty.

-- Normally (Oxsys@aol.com), June 16, 2000.

Fleas

Adam

had 'em

[author unknown]

-- CD (costavike@hotmail.com), June 16, 2000.

I Fly From Life To Life by Paramahansa Yogananda

With living threads of Thy beauty my winsome wings were woven. Endowed with a spark of immortality, I have flown from life to life.

I escape from all who audaciously try to possess me; I belong only to Thee. No transiency enthralls me; my true Home is Thy Changeless Spirit.

Thou hast clothed barren eternity in the verdure of multicolored cycles. In the forest of incarnations I flit gaily from tree to tree. I shall alight at last, o Lord, upon Thine outstretched hand.

-- Bingo1 (howe9@shentel.net), June 16, 2000.

DOVER BEACH (last stanza)-Mathew Arnold

Ah, love, let us be true

To one another! for the world, which seems

To lie before us like a land of dreams,

So various, so beautiful, so new,

Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

And we are here as on a darkling plain

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night.

-- Lars (lars@indy.net), June 16, 2000.

This is just part of a long poem by Housman

Oh I have been to the Ludlow Fair, and left my necktie, God knows where,

and carried half-way home or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer.

And then the world was not so bad, and I myself a sterling lad.

And down in lovely muck I've lain, Happy 'til I woke again.

Then I saw the morning sky, Heigh Ho the tale was all a lie.

The world was still the old world yet, and I was I, and my things were wet.

Nothing then remained to do, But begin the game anew.

-- gilda (jess@listbot.com), June 16, 2000.

Thanks, y'all, for your interesting contributions.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), June 17, 2000.