Two butterflies went out at noon
And waltzed above a stream,
Then stepped straight through the firmament
And rested on a beam;

And then together bore away
Upon a shining sea, –
Though never yet, in any port,
Their coming mentioned be.

If spoken by the distant bird,
If met in ether sea
By frigate or by merchantman,
Report was not to me.

– TWO VOYAGERS – Two butterflies went out at noon by Emily Dickinson

To lose one’s faith surpasses
The loss of an estate,
Because estates can be
Replenished, — faith cannot.

Inherited with life,
Belief but once can be;
Annihilate a single clause,
And Being’s beggary.

– LOST FAITH – To lose one’s faith surpasses by Emily Dickinson

Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning’s flagons up,
And say how many dew;
Tell me how far the morning leaps,
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadths of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new robin’s ecstasy
Among astonished boughs;
How many trips the tortoise makes,
How many cups the bee partakes, –
The debauchee of dews!

Also, who laid the rainbow’s piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite,
Who counts the wampum of the night,
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban house
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who ‘ll let me out some gala day,
With implements to fly away,
Passing pomposity?

– PROBLEMS – Bring me the sunset in a cup by Emily Dickinson

Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.

Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.

My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.

My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.

Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.

Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.

– Your Laughter by Pablo Neruda

I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,
As being past away.–Vain sympathies!
For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,
I see what was, and is, and will abide;
Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;
The Form remains, the Function never dies;
While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
We Men, who in our morn of youth defied
The elements, must vanish;–be it so!
Enough, if something from our hands have power
To live, and act, and serve the future hour;
And if, as toward the silent tomb we go,
Through love, through hope, and faith’s transcendent dower,
We feel that we are greater than we know.

– After Thought by William Wordsworth

THE child’s wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, See the moon!
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.

– CHILD MOON by Carl Sandburg

I said, I’ll take the T-bone steak.
A soft voice mooed, Oh wow.
And I looked up and realized
The waitress was a cow.
I cried, Mistake–forget the the steak.
I’ll take the chicken then.
I heard a cluck–’twas just my luck
The busboy was a hen.
I said, Okay no, fowl today.
I’ll have the seafood dish.
Then I saw through the kitchen door
The cook–he was a fish.
I screamed, Is there anyone workin’ here
Who’s an onion or a beet?
No? Your’re sure? Okay then friends,
A salad’s what I’ll eat.
They looked at me. Oh,no, they said,
The owner is a cabbage head.

– Strange Restaurant by Shel Silverstein

My love, we will go, we will go, I and you,
And away in the woods we will scatter the dew;
And the salmon behold, and the ousel too,
My love, we will hear, I and you, we will hear,
The calling afar of the doe and the deer.
And the bird in the branches will cry for us clear,
And the cuckoo unseen in his festival mood;
And death, oh my fair one, will never come near
In the bosom afar of the fragrant wood.

– Love Song by William Butler Yeats

Sunset and evening star,

; And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

; When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

; ;Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

; ;Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

; ;When I embark;

For through from out our bourne of Time and Place

; ;The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

; ;When I have crossed the bar.

– Crossing the Bar by Lord Alfred Tennyson

The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.

She felt herself supremer, –
A raised, ethereal thing;
Henceforth for her what holiday!
Meanwhile, her wheeling king

Trailed slow along the orchards
His haughty, spangled hems,
Leaving a new necessity, –
The want of diadems!

The morning fluttered, staggered,
Felt feebly for her crown, –
Her unanointed forehead
Henceforth her only one.

– THE SUN’S WOOING – The sun just touched the morning by Emily Dickinson