Classic poem of the day
Good luck to your fishing!
And what have you caught?
Ah, would that my wishing
Were more than a thought!
Ah, would you had caught her,
Young Chloe, for me,—
Young Chloe, the daughter
Of Proteus, the sea!
She irks me, she irks me,
With blue of her eyes;
She irks me, she irks me,
With little drawn sighs;
She lures me with laughter,
She tempts me with tears;
And hope follows after,—
Hope only,—and fears!......
Member poem of the day
There’s plenty of it on this sphere of ours,
in solid state, in liquid, and in steam.
Life’s brimming with it, from lobelia stem
to giant redwood bole. I’m free with oars
to row a boat, or in a canoe to paddle
to Boston, Antwerp—anywhere I wish.
If I get mucky, I’ll jump right in and wash
or watch the buntings bathing in a puddle
or peddle water filters, piddle about
the house all day and, sipping sparkling...
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