Sonnet

Listen to: 

Sonnet (1:06)

John Masefield 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

It may be so; but let the unknown be. 

We, on this earth, are servants of the sun.

Out of the sun comes all the quick in me,

His golden touch is life to everyone.

His power it is that makes us spin through space,

His youth is April and his manhood bread,

Beauty is but a looking on his face,

He clears the mind, he makes the roses red.

What he may be, who knows? But we are his,

We roll through nothing round him, year by year,

The withering leaves upon a tree which is

Each with his greed, his little power, his fear.

What we may be, who knows? But everyone

Is dust on dust a servant of the sun. 

The Need of Being Versed in Country Things

Listen to: 

The Need of Being Versed in Country Things (1:24)

by Robert Frost 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

The house had gone to bring again

To the midnight sky a sunset glow.

Now the chimney was all of the house that stood,

Like a pistil after the petals go.

The barn opposed across the way,

That would have joined the house in flame

Had it been the will of the wind, was left

To bear forsaken the place’s name.

No more it opened with all one end

For teams that came by the stony road

To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs

And brush the mow with the summer load.

The birds that came to it through the air

At broken windows flew out and in,

Their murmur more like the sigh we sigh

From too much dwelling on what has been.

Yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf,

And the aged elm, though touched with fire;

And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm;

And the fence post carried a strand of wire.

For them there was really nothing sad.

But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,

One had to be versed in country things

Not to believe the phoebes wept.

Let Me Live Out My Years

Listen to: 

Let Me Live Out My Years (:55)

by John G. Neihardt 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Let me live out my years in heat of blood!

Let me die drunken with the dreamer’s wine!

Let me not see this soul-house built of mud

Go toppling to the dust—a vacant shrine.

243

Let me go quickly, like a candle light

Snuffed out just at the heyday of its glow.

Give me high noon—and let it then be night!

Thus would I go.

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,

My song may trumpet down the gray Perhaps.

Let me be as a tune-swept fiddlestring

That feels the Master Melody—and snaps!

In the Subway

Listen to: 

In the Subway (1:04)

by Louis Untermeyer 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Chaos is tamed and ordered as we ride;

The rock is rent, the darkness flung aside

And all the horrors of the deep defied.

A coil of wires, a throb, a sudden spark—

And on a screaming meteor we embark

That hurls us past the cold and breathless dark.

The centuries disclose their secret graves—

Riding in splendor through a world of waves

The ancient elements become our slaves.

Uncanny fancies whisper to and fro;

Terror and Night surround us here below,

And through the house of Death we come and go...

And here, oh wildest glimpse of all, I see

The score of men and women facing me

Reading their papers calmly, leisurely.

Epigram & The Moon

As the links to the audio of these two poem recitations failed to appear in the last post, I am posting them here:

Epigram by Ernest Dowson

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Because I am idolatrous and have besought,
With grievous supplication and consuming prayer,
The admirable image that my dreams have wrought
Out of her swan's neck and her dark, abundant hair:
The jealous gods, who brook no worship save their own, 

Turned my live idol marble and her heart to stone. 

and

The Moon by Robert Louis Stevenson

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

    The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;

    She shines on thieves on the garden wall,

    On streets and fields and harbor quays,

    And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

    The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,

    The howling dog by the door of the house,

    The bat that lies in bed at noon,

    All love to be out by the light of the moon.

    But all of the things that belong to the day

    Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;

    And flowers and children close their eyes

    Till up in the morning the sun shall rise.

The Moon

Listen to: 

The Moon (:53)

by Robert Louis Stevenson 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

    The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;

    She shines on thieves on the garden wall,

    On streets and fields and harbor quays,

    And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

    The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,

    The howling dog by the door of the house,

    The bat that lies in bed at noon,

    All love to be out by the light of the moon.

    But all of the things that belong to the day

    Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;

    And flowers and children close their eyes

    Till up in the morning the sun shall rise.

Epigram

Listen to: 

Epigram (:34)

by Ernest Dowson 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Because I am idolatrous and have besought,
With grievous supplication and consuming prayer,
The admirable image that my dreams have wrought
Out of her swan's neck and her dark, abundant hair:
The jealous gods, who brook no worship save their own, 

Turned my live idol marble and her heart to stone. 

Some Geese

Listen to:

Some Geese (:38)

by Oliver Herford 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Every child who has the use
Of his senses knows a goose.
See them underneath the tree
Gather round the goose-girl's knee,
While she reads them by the hour
From the works of Schopenhauer.

How patiently the geese attend!
But do they really comprehend
What Schopenhauer's driving at?
Oh, not at all; but what of that?
Neither do I; neither does she;
And, for that matter, nor does he.

Metaphysics

Listen to: 

Metaphysics (1:08)

by Oliver Herford 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Why and Wherefore set out one day

       To hunt for a wild Negation.

They agreed to meet at a cool retreat

       On the Point of Interrogation.

But the night was dark and they missed their mark,

       And, driven well-nigh to distraction,

They lost their ways in a murky maze

       Of utter abstruse abstraction.

Then they took a boat and were soon afloat

       On a sea of Speculation,

But the sea grew rough, and their boat, though tough,

       Was split into an Equation.

As they floundered about in the waves of doubt

       Rose a fearful Hypothesis,

Who gibbered with glee as they sank in the sea,

       And the last they saw was this:

On a rock-bound reef of Unbelief

       There sat the wild Negation;

Then they sank once more and were washed ashore

       At the Point of Interrogation.

I Have a Rendezvous With Death

Listen to: 

I Have a Rendezvous With Death (1:22)

by Alan Seeger 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

I have a rendezvous with Death


At some disputed barricade,


When Spring comes back with rustling shade 

And apple-blossoms fill the air —


I have a rendezvous with Death


When Spring brings back blue days and fair. 

It may be he shall take my hand 

And lead me into his dark land 

And close my eyes and quench my breath — 

It may be I shall pass him still.


I have a rendezvous with Death


On some scarred slope of battered hill, 

When Spring comes round again this year 

And the first meadow-flowers appear. 

God knows 'twere better to be deep 

Pillowed in silk and scented down, 

Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep, 

Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, 

Where hushed awakenings are dear . . . 

But I've a rendezvous with Death 

At midnight in some flaming town, 

When Spring trips north again this year, 

And I to my pledged word am true,


I shall not fail that rendezvous.