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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Carol who wrote (1328)2/24/1998 12:22:00 AM
From: Carol  Respond to of 2095
 
The Message

Send home my long stray'd eyes to me,
Which O too long have dwelt on thee,
Yet since there they have learn'd such ill,

Such forc'd fashions,
And false passions,

That they be
Made by thee

Fit for no good sight, keep them still.

Send home my worthless heart again,
Which no unworthy thought could stain,
Which if't be taught by thine

To make jestings
Of protestings,

And cross both
Word and oath,

Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine.

Yet send me back my heart and eyes,
That I may know, and see thy lies,
And may laugh and joy, when thou

Art in anguish
And dost languish

For some one
That will non,

Or prove as false as thou art now.

John Donne



To: Carol who wrote (1328)2/24/1998 1:28:00 AM
From: Stitch  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 2095
 
Carol,
<<Would you like to post something of hers?>>

Am happy to. This is a good intro to Edna St. Vincent Millay. But let me know if you can tolerate a very long poem and I will email my favorite to you (or post here if you think 24 stanzas can be tolerated).

The following is posted for personal use only and has no commercial application here.

Alms

My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go;
But it is winter of your love,
The sashes are beset with snow.

I light the lamp and lay the cloth,
I blow the coals to blaze again;
But it is winter with your love,
The frost is thick upon the pane.

I know the winter when it comes:
The leaves are listless on the boughs;
I watched your love a little while,
And brought my plants into the house.

I water them and turn them south,
I snap the dead brown from the stem;
But it is winter with your love,
I only tend and water them.

There was a time I stood and watched
The small, ill-natured sparrows' fray;
I loved the beggar that I fed,
I cared for what he had to say,

I stood and watched him out of sight;
Today I reached around the door
And set a bowl upon the step;
My heart is what it was before,

But it is winter with your love;
I scatter crumbs upon the sill,
And close the window, - and the birds
May take or leave them, as they will.

Hope you enjoyed,
best,
Stitch