William Butler Yeats – The Sorrow of Love

The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves, 

The full round moon and the star-laden sky, 

And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves, 

Had hid away earth's old and weary cry. 

  

And then you came with those red mournful lips, 

And with you came the whole of the world's tears, 

And all the sorrows of her labouring ships, 

And all the burden of her myriad years. 

  

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves, 

The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky, 

And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves 

Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.

Robert Frost – Reluctance

Out through the fields and the woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the group,

Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow,

When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last long aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feel question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – To Memory

Strange Power, I know not what thou art,

Murderer or mistress of my heart.

I know I'd rather meet the blow

Of my most unrelenting foe

Than live---as now I live---to be

Slain twenty times a day by thee.

Yet, when I would command thee hence,

Thou mockest at the vain pretence,

Murmuring in mine ear a song

Once loved, alas! forgotten long;

And on my brow I feel a kiss

That I would rather die than miss

Khalil Gibran – A Lover's Call XXVII

Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little

Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you

As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?

Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of

Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon

Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?

Or amongst the books, seeking human knowledge,

While you are replete with heavenly wisdom?

Oh companion of my soul, where are you? Are you

Praying in the temple? Or calling Nature in the

Field, haven of your dreams?

Are you in the huts of the poor, consoling the

Broken-hearted with the sweetness of your soul, and

Filling their hands with your bounty?

You are God's spirit everywhere;

You are stronger than the ages.

Do you have memory of the day we met, when the halo of

You spirit surrounded us, and the Angels of Love

Floated about, singing the praise of the soul's deed?

Do you recollect our sitting in the shade of the

Branches, sheltering ourselves from Humanity, as the ribs

Protect the divine secret of the heart from injury?

Remember you the trails and forest we walked, with hands

Joined, and our heads leaning against each other, as if

We were hiding ourselves within ourselves?

Recall you the hour I bade you farewell,

And the Maritime kiss you placed on my lips?

That kiss taught me that joining of lips in Love

Reveals heavenly secrets which the tongue cannot utter!

That kiss was introduction to a great sigh,

Like the Almighty's breath that turned earth into man.

That sigh led my way into the spiritual world,

Announcing the glory of my soul; and there

It shall perpetuate until again we meet.

I remember when you kissed me and kissed me,

With tears coursing your cheeks, and you said,

"Earthly bodies must often separate for earthly purpose,

And must live apart impelled by worldly intent.

"But the spirit remains joined safely in the hands of

Love, until death arrives and takes joined souls to God.

"Go, my beloved; Love has chosen you her delegate;

Over her, for she is Beauty who offers to her follower

The cup of the sweetness of life.

As for my own empty arms, your love shall remain my

Comforting groom; you memory, my Eternal wedding."

Where are you now, my other self? Are you awake in

The silence of the night? Let the clean breeze convey

To you my heart's every beat and affection.

Are you fondling my face in your memory? That image

Is no longer my own, for Sorrow has dropped his

Shadow on my happy countenance of the past.

Sobs have withered my eyes which reflected your beauty

And dried my lips which you sweetened with kisses.

Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping

From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?

Do you know the greatness of my patience?

Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying

To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any

Secret communication between angels that will carry to

You my complaint?

Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life

Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me.

Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me!

Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me!

Where are you, me beloved?

Oh, how great is Love!

And how little am I!

Carl Sandburg – Honky Tonk in Cleveland, Ohio

It's a jazz affair, drum crashes and cornet razzes.

The trombone pony neighs and the tuba jackass snorts.

The banjo tickles and titters too awful.

The chippies talk about the funnies in the papers.

     The cartoonists weep in their beer.

     Ship riveters talk with their feet

     To the feet of floozies under the tables.

A quartet of white hopes mourn with interspersed snickers:

        "I got the blues.

        I got the blues.

        I got the blues."

And . . . as we said earlier:

     The cartoonists weep in their beer.