Four Sonnets - Shakespeare & Milton

I added four sonnets to my Rhapsode Rhapsody I  audio file on the Internet Archive. Just click on the title to hear the audio and click on the poet to read a biography.

Sonnet 19 by John Milton
 
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When I consider how my light is spent,

   Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,

   And that one talent which is death to hide

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

   My true account, lest He returning chide;

   "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need

   Either man's work or His own gifts. Who best

   Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state

Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed,

   And post o'er land and ocean without rest;

   They also serve who only stand and wait."

Sonnet 123 by William Shakespeare
 
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No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:

Thy pyramids built up with newer might

To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;

They are but dressings of a former sight.

Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire

What thou dost foist upon us that is old;

And rather make them born to our desire

Than think that we before have heard them told.

Thy registers and thee I both defy,

Not wondering at the present nor the past,

For thy records and what we see doth lie,

Made more or less by thy continual haste.

This I do vow and this shall ever be;

I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.

Sonnet 154 by William Shakespeare
 
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The little Love-god lying once asleep,

Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,

Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep

Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand

The fairest votary took up that fire

Which many legions of true hearts had warmed;

And so the General of hot desire

Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarmed.

This brand she quenched in a cool well by,

Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,

Growing a bath and healthful remedy,

For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,

Came there for cure and this by that I prove,

Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.

Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare
 
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That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west;

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,

Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.

"Little Trotty Wagtail" By John Clare

For the final day of National Poetry Month, a recording of a children's poem.


Audio Recording by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Little Trotty Wagtail

by John Clare

Little trotty wagtail he went in the rain,

And tittering, tottering sideways he ne'er got straight again,

He stooped to get a worm, and looked up to get a fly,

And then he flew away ere his feathers they were dry.

Little trotty wagtail, he waddled in the mud,

And left his little footmarks, trample where he would.

He waddled in the water-pudge, and waggle went his tail,

And chirrupt up his wings to dry upon the garden rail.

Little trotty wagtail, you nimble all about,

And in the dimpling water-pudge you waddle in and out;

Your home is nigh at hand, and in the warm pig-stye,

So, little Master Wagtail, I'll bid you a good-bye.

 Poem-a-Day for National Poetry Month, April 2012 page on the Internet Archive. All 30 poems for the month are here for anyone to listen to in streaming audio and also to download.

"Summer and Winter" by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Audio recording by Bob González, rhapsode

Summer and Winter
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

It was a bright and cheerful afternoon,

Towards the end of the sunny month of June,

When the north wind congregates in crowds

The floating mountains of the silver clouds

From the horizon--and the stainless sky

Opens beyond them like eternity.

All things rejoiced beneath the sun; the weeds,

The river, and the cornfields, and the reeds;

The willow leaves that glanced in the light breeze,

And the firm foliage of the larger trees.

It was a winter such as when birds die

In the deep forests; and the fishes lie

Stiffened in the translucent ice, which makes

Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes

A wrinkled clod as hard as brick; and when,

Among their children, comfortable men

Gather about great fires, and yet feel cold:

Alas, then, for the homeless beggar old!

Poem-a-Day for National Poetry Month, April 2012 page on the Internet Archive.

William Blake "To the Muses"

Poem for Saturday, April 28

Audio Recording by Bob González, rhapsode

To the Muses
by William Blake

Whether on Ida's shady brow,

         Or in the chambers of the East,

The chambers of the sun, that now

         From ancient melody have ceas'd;

Whether in Heav'n ye wander fair,

         Or the green corners of the earth,

Or the blue regions of the air,

         Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,

         Beneath the bosom of the sea

Wand'ring in many a coral grove,

         Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry!

How have you left the ancient love

         That bards of old enjoy'd in you!

The languid strings do scarcely move!

         The sound is forc'd, the notes are few!

Poem-a-Day for National Poetry Month page on the Internet Archive.

George Meredith "I Play for Seasons"

Recording
Text
Poet Bio


Poem-a-Day for April 2012 page on the Internet Archive

"Nightingales" by Robert Bridges

My classic poem for today is "Nightingales" by Robert Bridges

Recording
Text
Poet Bio

My Poem-a-Day for Poetry Month April 2012 page on the Internet Archive.

The Nightingale by Sir Philip Sydney

Wednesday, April 25

Recording by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

CERTAIN SONNETS   

[The nightingale]          

by Sir Philip Sidney

The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth

    Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,

While late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,

    Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making,

    And mournfully bewailing,

Her throat in tunes expresseth

What grief her breast oppresseth,

    For Tereus' force on her chaste will prevailing.

O Philomela fair, O take some gladness,

That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness :

Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth ;

Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.

Alas, she hath no other cause of anguish

    But Tereus' love, on her by strong hand wroken,

Wherein she suffering, all her spirits languish ;

    Full womanlike / complains her will was broken.

    But I, who daily craving,

Cannot have to content me,

Have more cause to lament me,

    Since wanting is more woe than too much having.

O Philomela fair, O take some gladness,

That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness :

Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth ;

Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.

           

Biography of Sir Philip Sidney

Rosalind's Madrigal by Thomas Lodge

 

My Poem-a-Day project continues with another classic poem recorded especially for  National Poetry Month, April 2012 .

Tuesday, April 24

Rosalind's Madrigal  by Thomas Lodge (1556?–1625)

Recording

Text

Poet Bio

To view all the classic poems I have recorded so far, visit my Poem-a-Day for Poetry Month - April 2012 page on the Internet Archive.

Matthew Arnold "Shakespeare"

In celebration of the birthday of William Shakespeare in 1564, a paean to Shakespeare by Victorian poet, Matthew Arnold.

Shakespeare by Matthew Arnold
Recording
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Poet Bio

Poem-a-Day for Poetry Month, April 2012 page on the Internet Archive to hear all poems so far recorded this month.

A.E. Housman "The Immortal Part"

Sunday, April 22, 2012

The Immortal Part by A.E. Housman

Recording
Text
Poet Bio

Poem-a-Day for Poetry Month, April 2012 page on the Internet Archive. Click here to listen to all 22 (so far) of the month's poems in streaming audio.