[ { "title": "A Farewell to False Love", "author": "Sir Walter Raleigh", "lines": [ "Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies,", "A mortal foe and enemy to rest,", "An envious boy, from whom all cares arise,", "A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed,", "A way of error, a temple full of treason,", "In all effects contrary unto reason.", "", "A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers,", "Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose,", "A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers", "As moisture lend to every grief that grows;", "A school of guile, a net of deep deceit,", "A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait.", "", "A fortress foiled, which reason did defend,", "A siren song, a fever of the mind,", "A maze wherein affection finds no end,", "A raging cloud that runs before the wind,", "A substance like the shadow of the sun,", "A goal of grief for which the wisest run.", "", "A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear,", "A path that leads to peril and mishap,", "A true retreat of sorrow and despair,", "An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure's lap,", "A deep mistrust of that which certain seems,", "A hope of that which reason doubtful deems.", "", "Sith then thy trains my younger years betrayed,", "And for my faith ingratitude I find;", "And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed,", "Whose course was ever contrary to kind:", "False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu.", "Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew." ], "linecount": "30" }, { "title": "Song of Myself", "author": "Sir Walter Raleigh", "lines": [ "I was a Poet!", "But I did not know it,", "Neither did my Mother,", "Nor my Sister nor my Brother.", "The Rich were not aware of it;", "The Poor took no care of it.", "The Reverend Mr. Drewitt", "Never knew it.", "The High did not suspect it;", "The Low could not detect it.", "Aunt Sue", "Said it was obviously untrue.", "Uncle Ned", "Said I was off my head:", "(This from a Colonial", "Was really a good testimonial.)", "Still everybody seemed to think", "That genius owes a good deal to drink.", "So that is how", "I am not a poet now,", "And why", "My inspiration has run dry.", "It is no sort of use", "To cultivate the Muse", "If vulgar people", "Can't tell a village pump from a church steeple.", "I am merely apologizing", "For the lack of the surprising", "In what I write", "To-night.", "I am quite well-meaning,", "But a lot of things are always intervening", "Between", "What I mean", "And what it is said", "I had in my head.", "It is all very puzzling.", "Uncle Ned", "Says Poets need muzzling.", "He might", "Be right.", "Good-night!" ], "linecount": "42" }, { "title": "Farewell to the Court", "author": "Sir Walter Raleigh", "lines": [ "Like truthless dreams, so are my joys expir'd,", "And past return are all my dandled days;", "My love misled, and fancy quite retir'd--", "Of all which pass'd the sorrow only stays.", "", "My lost delights, now clean from sight of land,", "Have left me all alone in unknown ways;", "My mind to woe, my life in fortune's hand--", "Of all which pass'd the sorrow only stays.", "", "As in a country strange, without companion,", "I only wail the wrong of death's delays,", "Whose sweet spring spent, whose summer well-nigh done--", "Of all which pass'd only the sorrow stays.", "", "Whom care forewarns, ere age and winter cold,", "To haste me hence to find my fortune's fold." ], "linecount": "14" }, { "title": "Nature that Washed Her Hands in Milk", "author": "Sir Walter Raleigh", "lines": [ "Nature, that washed her hands in milk,", "And had forgot to dry them,", "Instead of earth took snow and silk,", "At love's request to try them,", "If she a mistress could compose", "To please love's fancy out of those.", "", "Her eyes he would should be of light,", "A violet breath, and lips of jelly;", "Her hair not black, nor overbright,", "And of the softest down her belly;", "As for her inside he'd have it", "Only of wantonness and wit.", "", "At love's entreaty such a one", "Nature made, but with her beauty", "She hath framed a heart of stone;", "So as Love, by ill destiny,", "Must die for her whom nature gave him", "Because her darling would not save him.", "", "But time, which nature doth despise", "And rudely gives her love the lie,", "Makes hope a fool, and sorrow wise,", "His hands do neither wash nor dry;", "But being made of steel and rust,", "Turns snow and silk and milk to dust.", "", "The light, the belly, lips, and breath,", "He dims, discolors, and destroys;", "With those he feeds but fills not death,", "Which sometimes were the food of joys.", "Yea, time doth dull each lively wit,", "And dries all wantonness with it.", "", "Oh, cruel time, which takes in trust", "Our youth, or joys, and all we have,", "And pays us but with age and dust;", "Who in the dark and silent grave", "When we have wandered all our ways", "Shuts up the story of our days." ], "linecount": "36" }, { "title": "To a Lady with an Unruly and Ill-mannered Dog Who Bit several Persons of Importance", "author": "Sir Walter Raleigh", "lines": [ "Your dog is not a dog of grace;", "He does not wag the tail or beg;", "He bit Miss Dickson in the face;", "He bit a Bailie in the leg.", "", "What tragic choices such a dog", "Presents to visitor or friend!", "Outside there is the Glasgow fog;", "Within, a hydrophobic end.", "", "Yet some relief even terror brings,", "For when our life is cold and gray", "We waste our strength on little things,", "And fret our puny souls away.", "", "A snarl! A scruffle round the room!", "A sense that Death is drawing near!", "And human creatures reassume", "The elemental robe of fear.", "", "So when my colleague makes his moan", "Of careless cooks, and warts, and debt,", "-- Enlarge his views, restore his tone,", "And introduce him to your Pet!", "", "Quod Raleigh." ], "linecount": "21" }, { "title": "Life", "author": "Sir Walter Raleigh", "lines": [ "What is our life? A play of passion,", "Our mirth the music of division,", "Our mother's wombs the tiring-houses be,", "Where we are dressed for this short comedy.", "Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is,", "That sits and marks still who doth act amiss.", "Our graves that hide us from the setting sun", "Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.", "Thus march we, playing, to our latest rest,", "Only we die in earnest, that's no jest." ], "linecount": "10" } ]