Forget not yet the tried intentOf such a truth as I have meant
My great travail so gladly spent
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service none tell can
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in delays,
Forget not yet!
Forget not! O, forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is
The mind that never meant amiss-
Forget not yet!
Forget not then thine own approved
The which so long hath thee so loved
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved-
Forget not this!
~~~~~~~~~~Sir T Wyat
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of out-worn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the watery main,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state
or state itself confonded to decay,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate-
That Time will come and take my Love away:
-This thot is as a death, which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
~~~~~~~~~~~W. Shakespeare
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong 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 therfore 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?
~~~~~~~~~~No Author Listed
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others have saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then-in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life-was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~no author listed
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