poetry_secundus.pdf - Poetry Secundus Stopping\u0003By\u0003Woods\u0003On\u0003A\u0003Snowy\u0003Evening\u0003by\u0003Robert\u0003Frost Whose\u0003woods\u0003these\u0003are\u0003I\u0003think\u0003I\u0003know

poetry_secundus.pdf - Poetry Secundus...

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Unformatted text preview: Poetry Secundus StoppingByWoodsOnASnowyEveningbyRobertFrost WhosewoodstheseareIthinkIknow. Hishouseisinthevillagethough; Hewillnotseemestoppinghere Towatchhiswoodsfillupwithsnow. Mylittlehorsemustthinkitqueer Tostopwithoutafarmhousenear Betweenthewoodsandfrozenlake Thedarkesteveningoftheyear. Hegiveshisharnessbellsashake Toaskifthereissomemistake. Theonlyothersound'sthesweep Ofeasywindanddownyflake. Poetry Secundus Thewoodsarelovely,darkanddeep. The Duke of Plaza-Toro by W.S. Gilbert ButIhavepromisestokeep, AndmilestogobeforeIsleep, AndmilestogobeforeIsleep. In enterprise of martial kind, When there was any fighting, He led his regiment from behind He found it less exciting. But when away his regiment ran, ThoseWinterSundaysbyRobertHayden His place was at the fore, O Sundaystoomyfathergotupearly That celebrated, Cultivated, Underrated Nobleman, andputhisclothesonintheblueblackcold, thenwithcrackedhandsthatached The Duke of Plaza-Toro! fromlaborintheweekdayweathermade bankedfiresblaze.Nooneeverthankedhim. In the first and foremost flight, ha, ha! I'dwakeandhearthecoldsplintering,breaking. You always found that knight, ha, ha! That celebrated, Cultivated, Underrated Nobleman, Whentheroomswerewarm,he'dcall, andslowlyIwouldriseanddress, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! fearingthechronicangersofthathouse, speakingindifferentlytohim, whohaddrivenoutthecold andpolishedmygoodshoesaswell. WhatdidIknow,whatdidIknow oflove'saustereandlonelyoffices? Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends. The Duke of Plaza-Toro by W.S. Gilbert In enterprise of martial kind, When there was any fighting, He led his regiment from behind He found it less exciting. But when away his regiment ran, His place was at the fore, O That celebrated, Cultivated, Underrated Nobleman, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! In the first and foremost flight, ha, ha! You always found that knight, ha, ha! That celebrated, Cultivated, Underrated Nobleman, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! When, to evade Destruction's hand, To hide they all proceeded, No soldier in that gallant band Hid half as well as he did. He lay concealed throughout the war, And so preserved his gore, O! That unaffected, Undetected, Well-connected Warrior, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! In every doughty deed, ha, ha! He always took the lead, ha, ha! That unaffected, Undetected, Well-connected Warrior, The Duke of Plaza-Toro! Later life by Christina Rossetti Something this foggy day, a something which Is neither of this fog nor of today, Has set me dreaming of the winds that play Past certain cliffs, along one certain beach, And turn the topmost edge of waves to spray: Ah pleasant pebbly strand so far away, So out of reach while quite within my reach, As out of reach as India or Cathay! I am sick of where I am and where I am not, I am sick of foresight and of memory, I am sick of all I have and all I see, I am sick of self, and there is nothing new; Oh weary impatient patience of my lot! Thus with myself: how fares it, Friends, with you? Level 4 possible with this poem Totally like whatever, you know? By Taylor Mali In case you hadn't noticed, it has somehow become uncool to sound like you know what you're talking about? Or believe strongly in what you're saying? Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)'s have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences? Even when those sentences aren't, like, questions? You know? Declarative sentences - so-called because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true as opposed to other things which were, like, not have been infected by a totally hip and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know? Like, don't think I'm uncool just because I've noticed this; this is just like the word on the street, you know? It's like what I've heard? I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay? I'm just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty? What has happened to our conviction? Where are the limbs out on which we once walked? Have they been, like, chopped down with the rest of the rain forest? Or do we have, like, nothing to say? Has society become so, like, totally . . . I mean absolutely . . . You know? That we've just gotten to the point where it's just, like . . . whatever! And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness is just a clever sort of . . . thing to disguise the fact that we've become the most aggressively inarticulate generation to come along since . . . you know, a long, long time ago! I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you, I challenge you: To speak with conviction. To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks the determination with which you believe it. Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker, it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY. You have to speak with it, too. ...
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