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My love is like to ice, and I to fire:

How comes it then that this her cold so great

Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,

But harder grows the more I her entreat?

Or how comes it that my exceeding heat

Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold,

But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,

And feel my flames augmented manifold?

What more miraculous thing may be told,

That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,

And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold,

Should kindle fire by wonderful device?

Such is the power of love in gentle mind,

That it can alter all the course of kind.

A tree’s leaves may be ever so good,

So may its bar, so may its wood;

But unless you put the right thing to its root

It never will show much flower or fruit

 

But I may be one who does not care

Ever to have tree bloom or bear.

Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,

Leaves and bark maybe tree enough.

 

Some giant trees have bloom so small

They might as well have none at all

Late in life I have come on fern.

Now lichens are due to have their turn.

 

I bade men tell me which in brief,

Which is fairer, flower or leaf.

They did not have the wit to say,

Leaves by night and flowers by day.

 

Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,

To lean against and hear in the dark.

Petals I may have once pursued.

Leaves are all my darker mood.

O well for him who leaves at ease

With garnered gold in wide domain,

Nor heeds the splashing of the rain,

The crashing down of forest trees.-

O well for him who ne’er hath known

The travail of the hungry years,

A father grey with grief and tears,

A mother weeping all alone.-

But well for him whose feet hath trod

The weary road of toil and strife,

Yet from the sorrows of his life

Builds ladders to be nearer God.

 

I am left alone

Everybody was gone

That made me very sad

To be correct, even mad

I was brought to this shop

And had a lot of hope

When I was small

I learned to crawl

Now I am tall

And eat from a bowl

Don’t have fleas

Never tried to tease

I’m not a bum

Like to have fun

Have many followers on the instagram

Checked LinkedIn for a job

You see, I am not a snob

But there is a request

Must be adopted first

So far, no one will adopt me

Maybe because it is not free

Can someone, please, pay the fee

I am very good at security

By the way my name is Mr. T!!!

 

 

Romance, who loves to nod and sing

With drowsy head and folded wing

Among the green leaves as  they shake

Far down within some shadowy lake,

To me a painted paroquet

Hath been-most familiar bird-

Taught me my alphabet world

To lisp my very earliest word

While in the wild wood I did lie,

A child-with a most knowing eye.

 

Of late, eternal condor years

So shake the very Heaven on high

With tumult as they thunder by,

I have no time for idle cares

Through gazing on the unquiet sky;

And when an hour with calmer wings

Its down upon my spirit flings;

That little time with lyre and rhyme

To while away-forbidden things-

My heart would feel to be a crime

Unless it trembled with the strings.

 

 

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers t0-day;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain harvest; keep us here

All simply in the springing of the year.

 

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,

Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;

And make us happy in the happy bees,

The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

 

And make us happy in the darting bird

That suddenly above the bees is heard,

The meteor that thrusts in the needle bill,

And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

 

For this is love and nothing else is love,

The which it is reserved for God above

To sanctify to what fat ends He will,

But which it only needs that we fulfil.

 

Lovers, forget your love,

And list to the love of these,

She a window flower,

And he a winter breeze.

 

When the frosty window veil

Was melted down at noon,

And the caged yellow bird

Hung over her in tune.

 

He marked her through the pane,

He could not help but mark,

And only passed her by,

To come again at dark.

 

He was a winter wind,

Concerned with ice and snow,

Dead weeds and unmated birds

And little of life could know.

 

But he signed upon the sill,

He gave the sash a shake,

As witness all within

Who lay that night awake.

 

Perchance he half prevailed

To win her for the fight

From firelit looking glass

And warm stove-window light

 

But the flower leaned aside

And thought of naught to say,

And morning found the breeze

A hundred miles away.

 

I am a new yorker

My name is Walker

Not a big talker

Getting up in age

Believe me not a sage

Sometimes I feel rage

Because I can’t walk fast

So I always finish last

Have different color eyes

Yet they are the same size

But still have the sense of smell

And the owner treats me well

So my life is not that bad

I am feed

I am dressed

I am blessed!

My name is Jerry

I am a little hairy

Not at all scary

Would say even cute

Staying here put

Trying not to bark

But inside I have a spark

Would love to run in the park

Jump down jump up

Sit on someone’s lap

Also, I have a wish

Yes, ready to wear a leash

If you think I look weird

I will in instant shave the beard

And if the problem is the mustache

Will get rid of it in a flash

So, if you are ready to adopt

Remember, I am a very agreeable pup!

 

 

 

 

We come with peace and reason,

We come with love and light,

To banish black self-treason

And everlasting night.

 

We know no god nor devil,

We neither drive nor lead-

We come to banish evil

In thought as well as deed.

 

And this is our grandest mission,

And this is our purest worth;

To banish superstition,

The blackest curse on earth.

 

We come to pass no sentence,

For ours is not the power-

The coward’s vain repentance

But wastes the waiting hour.

 

‘Tis not for us to lengthen

The years of wasted lives;

We come to help and strengthen

The goodness that survives.

 

We promise nought hereafter,

We cannot conquer pain,

But work, and rest, and laughter,

Will sooth the tortured brain.

 

That which is lost, we cannot

Restore to any one-

But Truth and Right must triumph,

And Justice must be done!

 

We come in many guises;

But every one is plain

To each pure thought that rises

Again and yet again.

 

We are ourselves and human,

And ours our destiny;

The souls of Man and Woman

Divorced by Vanity.