The day came slow, till five’o clock,Then sprang before the hillsLike hindered rubies, or the lightA sudden musket spills.(Emily Dickinson)

O love is the crooked thing(William Butler Yeats)

Good-night, good-night!parting is such *sweet sorrow*(Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)

Hope is the thing with feathersThat perches in the soul,And sings the tune — without the words,And never stops at all,(Emily Dickinson)

My love is like a red, red rose.(Robert Burns)

LIfe is a walking shadow.(Shakespeare, Hamlet)

Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell:Hark! Now I hear them – *Ding, dong, bell*.

(Shakespeare, The Tempest)

And *h*umming *h*ive-bees *h*omeward *h*urry by(John Clare)

There is no Frigate like a BookTo take us Lands awayNor any Coursers like a PageOf prancing Poetry(Emily Dickinson)

For I have had too muchOf apple-picking: I am overtiredOf the great harvest I myself desired.*There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch*,Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.(Robert Frost)

A tree that may in Summer wearA nest of robins in her hair(Joyce Kilmer)

Let the rain kiss you.Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.Let the rain sing you a lullaby.(Langston Hughes)

Well, son, I’ll tell you:Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.It’s had tacks in it,And splinters,And boards torn up,And places with no carpet on the floor—Bare.

(Langston Hughes)

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.(Langston Hughes)

I have seen them riding seaward on the *w*avesCombing the *wh*ite hair of the *w*aves blown back*Wh*en the *w*ind blows the *w*ater *wh*ite and black.(T.

S. Eliot)

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,And seeing that it was a soft October night,Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.(T.

S. Eliot)

Ever unr*ee*ling them, ever tirelessly sp*ee*ding them.(Walt Whitman)

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring – When *w*eeds, in *wh*eels, shoot *l*ong and *l*ovely and *l*ush(Gerard Manley Hopkins)

Lost as a candle lit at noon,Lost as a snowflake in the sea.(Sara Teasdale)

Swept by the tempest of your love,A taper in a rushing wind.(Sara Teasdale)

Over the cobbles he *clattered and clashed* in the dark inn-yard,He tapped with his *whip* on the shutters, but all was locked and barred…

(Alfred Noyes)

There midnight’s a*ll* a g*l*immer, and noon a purp*le* glow,And evening fu*ll* of the *l*innet’s wings(William Butler Yeats)

He *c*lasps the *c*rag with *c*rooked hands; *C*lose to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands.(Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

But he grew *o*ld-This knight s*o* b*o*ld-And *o*’er his heart a shad*ow*Fell as he foundNo spot of groundThat looked like Eldorad*o*.(Edgar Allan Poe)

Macavity’s a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw–For he’s the *master criminal* who can defy the Law.He’s the *bafflement of Scotland Yard*, the Flying Squad’s despair:For when they reach the scene of crime–Macavity’s not there!(T.S. Eliot)

Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical! / Dove feathered raven! Wolvish-ravening lamb! / Despised substance of divinest show! / A damned saint, an honorable villain!(Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)

Lotus leaves in the pondRide on water.

Rain in June.(Shiki Masaoka)

Lightning:Heron’s cryStabs the darkness(Basho Matsuo)

There was an old man with a beard,Who said, “It is just as I feared!– Two Owls and a Hen, Four Larks and a Wren,Have all built their nests in my beard!”(Edward Lear)

THERE was a small boy of Quebec, Who was buried in snow to his neck; When they said. “Are you friz?” He replied, “Yes, I is— But we don’t call this cold in Quebec.”(Rudyard Kipling)

Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn and caldron bubble.(Shakespeare)

There was a young lady of NigerWho smiled as she rode on a tiger. They returned from the ride With the lady insideAnd the smile on the face of the tiger.

For the moon never b*ea*ms without bringing me dr*ea*msOf the beautiful Annabel L*ee*;And the stars never r*i*se but I f*ee*l the bright *eye*sOf the beautiful Annabel L*ee*;And so, all the n*igh*t-t*i*de, I l*ie* down b*y* the s*i*deOf my darling- my darling- my l*i*fe and my br*i*de,In the sepulchre there by the s*ea*,In her tomb by the sounding s*ea*.(Edgar Allan Poe)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and heightMy soul can reach, when feeling out of sightFor the ends of Being and ideal Grace.(Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.(Shakespeare, Julius Caesar)

Two households, both alike in dignity,In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,From ancient grudge–break to new mutiny,Where *civil blood* makes *civil hands* unclean.(Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)