Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits mon frere
One small darkness encloses
How gold and purple that shovel there
To rags and rubbish disposes
Charon beckons from tumultuous waves
Then trice this ancient digger of graves
For thee ne'er grapeskin shall glister
Wherefore my Movits come help me to raise
A gravestone over our sister
Even desirous and modest adobe
Under the sighing branches
Where time and death, a marriage forebode
Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes
To thee ne'er jealousy findeth her way
Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray
Flitteth amid these barrows
E'en enmity armed, as thou seest this day
Piously breaketh her arrow
The little bell echoes the great bells groan
Robed in the door the precentor
Noisome with quiristers prayerful moan
Blesses those, who enter
The way to this templed city of tombs
Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms
Fragments of mouldering biers
Till black-clad each mourner,
His station assumes
Bows there deeply in tears
Name:
Anonymous2010-10-26 14:26
Or two:
Up, Amaryllis! Wake, little sweeting!
Clouds are all fleeting,
Cool the air.
See how the glowing
Rainbow, its flowing
Colors bestowing.
Makes all fair.
Amaryllis, truly I assure thee,
Peace on Neptune's bosom I 'II secure thee.
Let the god of sleep no longer lure thee.
Let him no more overmaster thee there!
Let 's go a-fishing — nets are all spread now —
Mope not in bed now,
Quickly rise!
Come thou, all bodiced,
Kirtled so modest;
Fish of the oddest
Be our prize!
Amaryllis, little one, awaken, —
Lacking thee, of joy I 'm quite forsaken;
From our boat the spray will soon be shaken.
As mid the dolphins and sirens it flies.
Bring rods and lines, and spoon for our trolling!
Up the sun 's rolling —
Hasten thee!
Sweet, let us revel,
Think thou no evil.
Say no uncivil
Nay to me!
Let us sail into the cove so shallow.
Or to yonder sound thy love did hallow.
Erst, when at my fortune that poor fellow
Thyrsis was angry as angry could be.
Come, then, embark and sing with me sweetly !
Love rules completely
In our breast.
Winds that would harm us
Cannot alarm us.
Love still can charm us.
Make us blest.
Happy on the ocean's fretful billow,
As within thine arms my head I pillow.
Unto death my soul thy soul would follow . . .
Sing, O ye sirens, reecho the rest !
Name:
Anonymous2010-10-27 13:14
JOKE OBSERVATION FAILURE
ATTEMPT TO PERCIEVE HUMOUR HAS BEEN UNSUCCESSFUL ON POST >>5