The Chimney Sweeper (Songs of Innocence) by William Blake
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved: so I said,
"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head's bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
And so he was quiet; and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight, -
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
And by came an angel who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins and set them all free;
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run,
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind;
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm;
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.
Showing posts with label Melancholy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Melancholy. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Spaces - Vivian Sky Lee
Spaces
Sunlight illuminates an empty room,
peopleless and quiet.
Beams of gold creep,
silently over here -
happy times put to rest,
heavy books bound to dust.
The door creaks open,
to a corridor of echoes,
where memories stir,
hauntingly relentlessly,
like ghosts of yesterdays.
Shadows dart into the books,
the playing cards and worn out couch.
It will be peopled again,
where new experiences are put to rest,
and by night the shadows return,
specters of yesterdays.
Vivian Sky Lee
Sunlight illuminates an empty room,
peopleless and quiet.
Beams of gold creep,
silently over here -
happy times put to rest,
heavy books bound to dust.
The door creaks open,
to a corridor of echoes,
where memories stir,
hauntingly relentlessly,
like ghosts of yesterdays.
Shadows dart into the books,
the playing cards and worn out couch.
It will be peopled again,
where new experiences are put to rest,
and by night the shadows return,
specters of yesterdays.
Vivian Sky Lee
Labels:
All Levels,
Joey,
Local Literature,
Melancholy,
Time
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Meeting Point - Louis Macneice
Time was away and somewhere else,
There were two glasses and two chairs
And two people with the one pulse
(Somebody stopped the moving stairs)
Time was away and somewhere else.
And they were neither up nor down;
The stream's music did not stop
Flowing through heather, limpid brown,
Although they sat in a coffee shop
And they were neither up nor down.
The bell was silent in the air
Holding its inverted poise -
Between the clang and clang a flower,
A brazen calyx of no noise:
The bell was silent in the air.
The camels crossed the miles of sand
That stretched around the cups and plates;
The desert was their own, they planned
To portion out the stars and dates:
The camels crossed the miles of sand.
Time was away and somewhere else.
The waiter did not come, the clock
Forgot them and the radio waltz
Came out like water from a rock:
Time was away and somewhere else.
Her fingers flicked away the ash
That bloomed again in tropic trees:
Not caring if the markets crash
When they had forests such as these,
Her fingers flicked away the ash.
God or whatever means the Good
Be praised that time can stop like this,
That what the heart has understood
Can verify in the body's peace
God or whatever means the Good.
Time was away and she was here
And life no longer what it was,
The bell was silent in the air
And all the room one glow because
Time was away and she was here.
Louis MacNeice
There were two glasses and two chairs
And two people with the one pulse
(Somebody stopped the moving stairs)
Time was away and somewhere else.
And they were neither up nor down;
The stream's music did not stop
Flowing through heather, limpid brown,
Although they sat in a coffee shop
And they were neither up nor down.
The bell was silent in the air
Holding its inverted poise -
Between the clang and clang a flower,
A brazen calyx of no noise:
The bell was silent in the air.
The camels crossed the miles of sand
That stretched around the cups and plates;
The desert was their own, they planned
To portion out the stars and dates:
The camels crossed the miles of sand.
Time was away and somewhere else.
The waiter did not come, the clock
Forgot them and the radio waltz
Came out like water from a rock:
Time was away and somewhere else.
Her fingers flicked away the ash
That bloomed again in tropic trees:
Not caring if the markets crash
When they had forests such as these,
Her fingers flicked away the ash.
God or whatever means the Good
Be praised that time can stop like this,
That what the heart has understood
Can verify in the body's peace
God or whatever means the Good.
Time was away and she was here
And life no longer what it was,
The bell was silent in the air
And all the room one glow because
Time was away and she was here.
Louis MacNeice
Labels:
All Levels,
Existentialism,
Irish,
Joey,
Louis Macneice,
Melancholy,
Relationships,
Religion,
Time
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)