Weekly Contest
Classic poem of the day
Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf,
Not one will change his neighbour with himself.
The learn'd is happy Nature to explore,
The fool is happy that he knows no more;
The rich is happy in the plenty given,
The poor contents him with the care of Heaven.
See the blind beggar dance, the cripple sing,
The sot a hero, lunatic a king;
The starving chemist in his golden views
Supremely blest, the poet in his Muse.
See some strange comfort every state attend,
And pride bestow'd on all, a common friend:
See some fit passion every age supply,
Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.
Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw:
Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight,
A little louder, but as empty quite:
Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage,
And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age:
Pleased with this bauble still, as that before;
Till tired he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er.
member poem of the day
I.
Upon the hills
The air was dry
And dead trees hung
Beneath the sky
As cold wind blew
The snowflakes fell—
A frozen kiss
From icy hell
The boy was young
Of thirteen years
His father weak
And full of fears
The trail grew bleak,
They couldn’t see
And as it snowed
The boy did plea
“My father, now
The path is nigh
Without some warmth
We’re soon to die”
“My son, Noël,
Let’s shelter take
Within that shed
By Frozen Lake”
It howled long
As deep they slept;
The night turned cold,
A shadow crept
Noël awoke
As in a dream;
The beams were bright,
He couldn’t scream
Within the light
A woman stirred;
She gazed at him
Without a word
An...
