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Fire and Ice by: Robert Frost Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if I had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice is also great And would suffice. The Tiger by: William Blake Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forest of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame they fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the ardor of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire-- What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand formed thy dread feet? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? |
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The Rainy Day by: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the moldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the moldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary. |