spontaneous thursday #16

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN BY ROBERT FROST

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 

And sorry I could not travel both 

And be one traveler, long I stood 

And looked down one as far as I could 

To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

Then took the other, as just as fair, 

And having perhaps the better claim, 

Because it was grassy and wanted wear; 

Though as for that the passing there 

Had worn them really about the same, 

And both that morning equally lay 

In leaves no step had trodden black. 

Oh, I kept the first for another day! 

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, 

I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence: 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

spontaneous thursday #13

A POISON TREE BY WILLIAM BLAKE

I was angry with my friend

I told my wrath, my wrath did end

I was angry with my foe

I told it not, my wrath did grow

And I watered it in fears

Night and morning with my tears

And I sunned it with smiles

And with soft deceitful wiles

And it grew both day and night

Till it bore an apple bright

And my foe beheld it shine

And he knew that it was mine

And into my garden stole

When the night had veiled the pole

In the morning glad I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree 

spontaneous thursday #9

SONNET 18 BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May

And summer's lease hath all too short a date

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines

And often is his gold complexion dimmed

And every fair from fair sometime declines

By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see

So long lives this and this gives life to thee

spontaneous thursday #8

REMEMBER BY CRISTHINA ROSSETTI

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land:

When you can no more hold me by the hand, 

Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Then that you should remember and be sad.

sumber