Shoals of fish assemble and scatter,
Suddenly there is no trace of them.

The single butterfly comes—
Goes—
Comes—
Returning as though urged by love.

Oh, for 'is heart is like the sea, Ever hopen, brave an'
free, And his girl must lonely be, Till 'is ship comes
back. But if love's the best of all, What can a man befall?
For every girl at all, They all love Jack!

Is there anybody here who loves my Jesus?
Anybody here who loves my Lord?
I want to know if you love my Jesus;
I want to know if you love my Lord.

This world's a wilderness of woe,
So let us all to glory go.
Religion is a blooming rose,
And none but them who feel it know.

When I was blind and could not see,
King Jesus brought the light to me.

When ev'ry star refuses to shine,
I know King Jesus will be mine.

Wert thou by all Affections sought,
And fairer then thou wouldst be thought:
Or had thine Eyes as many Darts
As thou believ'st they shoot at Hearts,
Yet if thy Love were paid to me,
I would not offer mine to thee.

Ide sooner court a Feavers heat,
Then her that owns a Flame as great;
She that my Love will entertain,
Must meet it with no lesse disdain.
For mutual Fires themselves destroy,
And willing Kisses yield no Joy.
I love thee not because alone
Thou canst all Beauty call thine own,
Nor doth my passion fuel seek,

He's dead

the dog won't have to
sleep on his potatoes
any more to keep them
from freezing

he's dead
the old bastard—
He's a bastard because

there's nothing
legitimate in him any
more
he's dead

He's sick-dead


he's
a godforsaken curio
without
any breath in it

He's nothing at all
he's dead

Shrunken up to skin
Put his head on
one chair and his
feet on another and
he'll lie there
like an acrobat—

Love's beaten. He
beat it. That's why
he's insufferable—
because

THE STORM-FLOWER BLOOMS BY THE OUTER MOAT
OF MY CASTLE OF LOVE, WHILE THE PERILOUS RAIN
SHRIEKS AND BEATS AT THE GRANITE WALLS ,
AT THE DOORS, AT EACH THICK WINDOW-PANE
BUT IN THE KEEP, STILL, STILL, AND DEEP
MY SWEET LOVE WAITS IN IVORY ROOMS :
SHE WEARS NEW SILK FROM FAIRY LOOMS :
OUR LIPS BURN SWEETLY, WITHOUT FEAR :
OUR NEST IS STILL. I HEAR HER SIGH.—
AND WHAT CARE I. IF THE STORM-FLOWER BLOOMS!

The one I love
Is south of the great lakes
What shall I send you?
A tortoise shell hatpin with twin pearls,
With jade I'll braid and plait it.
I hear that you have another love—
I will break it, smash and burn it,
Smash and burn it,
Face into the wind, scatter its ashes.
From this day on
Nevermore will I love you.
My love for you is severed
Cocks crow, dogs bark.
My brother and his wife must find out.
Alas! Oh my!
Autumn winds sough, sough Dawn Wind hastens
The east at a blink whitening will find out!

One sunny time in May
When lambs were sporting,
The sap ran in the spray
And I went courting,
And all the apple-boughs
Were bright with blossom,
I picked an early rose
For my love's bosom.

And then I met her friend,
Down by the water,
Who cried, “She's met her end,
That grey-eyed daughter,
That voice of hers is stilled.
Her beauty broken.”
Oh, me! my love is killed,
My love unspoken.

She was too sweet, too dear,
To die so cruel.
O Death, why leave me here
And take my jewel?
Her voice went to the bone,

I love the little pond to mark at spring
When frogs & toads are croaking round its brink
When blackbirds yellow bills gin first to sing
& green woodpecker rotten trees to clink
I love to see the cattle muse & drink
& water crinkle to the rude march wind
While two ash dotterels flourish on its brink
Bearing key bunches children run to find
& water buttercups they're forced to leave behind.

Oh , turn thy bow,
Thy power we feel and know,
Fair Cupid, turn away thy bow:
They be those golden arrows,
Bring ladies all their sorrows,
And till there be more truth in men,
Never shoot at maid again.
Fountain-heads, and pathless groves,
Places which pale passion loves:
Moonlight walks, when all the fowls
Are warmly housed, save bats and owls;
A midnight bell, a parting groan,
These are the sounds we feed upon;
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.