Bee

O incomparable Giver of life, cut reason loose at last! Let it wander grey-eyed from vanity to vanity. Shatter open my skull, pour in it the wine of madness! Let me be mad, as You; mad with You, with us. Beyond the sanity of fools is a burning desert Where Your sun is whirling in every atom: Beloved, drag me there, let me roast in Perfection! - Rumi  

THE GRAVE AND THE ROSE by: Victor Hugo (1802-1885) HE Grave said to the Rose, "What of the dews of dawn, Love's flower, what end is theirs?" "And what of spirits flown, The souls whereon doth close The tomb's mouth unawares?" The Rose said to the Grave.   The Rose said, "In the shade From the dawn's tears is made A perfume faint and strange, Amber and honey sweet." "And all the spirits fleet Do suffer a sky-change, More strangely than the dew, To God's own angels new," The Grave said to the Rose. This English translation of "The Grave and the Rose" was composed by Andrew Lang (1844-1912).

Paris Bordone.  Venetian Lovers . 1525-30. "Whereto should I express" By King Henry VIII Whereto should I express My inward heaviness? No mirth can make me fain Till that we meet again. Do 'way, dear heart, not so! Let no thought you dismay ; Though ye now part me fro, We shall meet when we may. When I remember me Of your most gentil mind, It may in no wise agree That I should be unkind. The daisy delectable, The violet wan and blo— Ye are not variable, I love you and no mo. I make you fast and sure ; It is to me great pain Thus longë to endure Till that we meet again. Source: Poetry of the English Renaissance . William J. Hebel and Hoyt H. Hudson, Eds. New York: F. S. Crofts & Co., 1941. 8-9.

Life is Fine by  Langston Hughes I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn't, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn't a-been so cold I might've sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water! It was cold! I took the elevator Sixteen floors above the ground. I thought about my baby And thought I would jump down. I stood there and I hollered! I stood there and I cried! If it hadn't a-been so high I might've jumped and died. But it was High up there! It was high! So since I'm still here livin', I guess I will live on. I could've died for love-- But for livin' I was born Though you may hear me holler, And you may see me cry-- I'll be dogged, sweet baby, If you gonna see me die. Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!

O! Where Are You Going? O! What are you doing, And where are you going? Your ponies need shoeing! The River is flowing! O! Tra-la-la-lally Here down in the valley! O! What are you seeking, And where are you making? The faggots are reeking! The bannocks are baking! O! Tril-lil-lil-lolly The valley is jolly Ha ha! O! Where are you going, With beards all a-wagging? No knowing, no knowing What brings Mister Baggins, And Balin and Dwalin Down into the valley In June Ha ha! O! Will you be staying, Or will you be flying? Your ponies are straying! The daylight is dying! To fly would be folly, To stay would be jolly! And listen and hark Till the end of the dark To our tune. Ha ha! The dragon is withered, His bones are now crumbled! His armor is shivered, His splendour is humbled! Though sword shall be rusted And throne and crown perish, With strength that men trusted And wealth that they cherish, Here grass is still growing, And leaves are yet swing...

      Deadly Kisses ____________________________   All take these lips away; no more, No more such kisses give to me. My spirit faints for joy; I see Through mists of death the dreamy shore, And meadows by the water-side, Where all about the Hollow Land Fare the sweet singers that have died, With their lost ladies, hand in hand; Ah, Love, how fireless are their eyes, How pale their lips that kiss and smile! So mine must be in little while If thou wilt kiss me in such wise. _______________________________ Pierre Ronsard 

When are the children all happy and gay? When do they ne'er grow tired of play? When do their mouths seem like bells in chimes? It is the merry Christmas times. When do the little boys all get good? And bring in coal and cut all the wood, And every command of their parents mind, 'Tis just a week before Chistmas times. That is the time when all of the work Is done without a grumble or shirk. The little boys then ne'er turn and twist, When mother says, "Son, come here and do this." Let the word be said, he's at her command, Not once does he frown, or attempt to stand, But goes at her bidding, happy and gay, For it will soon be Christmas day. And then old Santa, thro' all the snow, Will come to those who've been good, you know; Down the chimney he'll come and will not stop, Till he fills each stocking full to the top. When his task is o'er he takes his stand Gazing at little ones in Dreamland, Who in that land, all happy and ...