Classic Poetry Aloud

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276. Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll Jul 01, 2008

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L Carroll read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll (1832 – 1898) ’T was brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. “Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!” He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought — So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy. ’T was brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

275. If Thou Must Love Me by Elizabeth Barrett Browning Jun 30, 2008

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EB Browning read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- If Thou Must Love Me by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 – 1861) Sonnets from the Portuguese iv If thou must love me, let it be for naught Except for love's sake only. Do not say, 'I love her for her smile — her look — her way Of speaking gently,— for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day' — For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may Be changed, or change for thee — and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry: A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love's sake, that evermore Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity. In memory of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who died this day, 30 June, in 1861. First aired: 12 October 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

274. The Daffodils by William Wordsworth Jun 29, 2008

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W Wordsworth read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Daffodils by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850) I wander'd lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretch'd in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:— A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company! I gazed, and gazed, but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. First aired: 17 October 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

273. My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is by Sir Edward Dyer Jun 28, 2008

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Sir E Dyer read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- My Mind to Me a Kingdom by Sir Edward Dyer (d. 1607) My mind to me a kingdom is; Such present joys therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That earth affords or grows by kind: Though much I want that most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave. No princely pomp, no wealthy store, No force to win the victory, No wily wit to salve a sore, No shape to feed a loving eye; To none of these I yield as thrall; For why? my mind doth serve for all. I see how plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soon do fall; I see that those which are aloft Mishap doth threaten most of all: They get with toil, they keep with fear: Such cares my mind could never bear. Content I live, this is my stay; I seek no more than may suffice; I press to bear no haughty sway; Look, what I lack my mind supplies. Lo, thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring. Some have too much, yet still do crave; I little have, and seek no more. They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store; They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I leave; they pine, I live. I laugh not at another’s loss, I grudge not at another’s gain; No worldly waves my mind can toss; My state at one doth still remain: I fear no foe, I fawn no friend; I loathe not life, nor dread my end. Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, Their wisdom by their rage of will; Their treasure is their only trust, A cloakèd craft their store of skill; But all the pleasure that I find Is to maintain a quiet mind. My wealth is health and perfect ease, My conscience clear my chief defence; I neither seek by bribes to please, Nor by deceit to breed offence: Thus do I live; thus will I die; Would all did so as well as I! For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

272. Eros Turannos by Edwin Arlington Robinson Jun 27, 2008

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EA Robinson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Eros Turannos by Edwin Arlington Robinson(1869 – 1935) She fears him, and will always ask What fated her to choose him; She meets in his engaging mask All reasons to refuse him; But what she meets and what she fears Are less than are the downward years, Drawn slowly to the foamless weirs Of age, were she to lose him. Between a blurred sagacity That once had power to sound him, And Love, that will not let him be The Judas that she found him, Her pride assuages her almost, As if it were alone the cost.— He sees that he will not be lost, And waits and looks around him. A sense of ocean and old trees Envelops and allures him; Tradition, touching all he sees, Beguiles and reassures him; And all her doubts of what he says Are dimmed with what she knows of days— Till even prejudice delays And fades, and she secures him. The falling leaf inaugurates The reign of her confusion; The pounding wave reverberates The dirge of her illusion; And home, where passion lived and died, Becomes a place where she can hide, While all the town and harbor side Vibrate with her seclusion. We tell you, tapping on our brows, The story as it should be,— As if the story of a house Were told, or ever could be; We’ll have no kindly veil between Her visions and those we have seen,— As if we guessed what hers have been, Or what they are or would be. Meanwhile we do no harm; for they That with a god have striven, Not hearing much of what we say, Take what the god has given; Though like waves breaking it may be, Or like a changed familiar tree, Or like a stairway to the sea Where down the blind are driven. For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index.

271. When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be by John Keats Jun 26, 2008

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J Keats read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://classicpoetryaloud.podomatic.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be by John Keats (1795 - 1821) When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high pil'ed books, in charact'ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And feel that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think, Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink. First aired: 28 July 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

270. To Althea from Prison by Richard Lovelace Jun 25, 2008

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R Lovelace read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- To Althea from Prison by Richard Lovelace (1618 – 1657) When Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair, And fetter'd to her eye, The gods, that wanton in the air, Know no such liberty. When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames, Our careless heads with roses bound, Our hearts with loyal flames; When thirsty grief in wine we steep, When healths and draughts go free, Fishes, that tipple in the deep, Know no such liberty. When (like committed linnets) I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, mercy, majesty, And glories of my king; When I shall voice aloud how good He is, how great should be, Enlarged winds, that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above, Enjoy such liberty. For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

269. Summer by John Clare Jun 24, 2008

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J Clare read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Summer by John Clare(1793 – 1864) Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come, For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom, And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest, And love is burning diamonds in my true lover's breast; She sits beneath the whitethorn a-plaiting of her hair, And I will to my true lover with a fond request repair; I will look upon her face, I will in her beauty rest, And lay my aching weariness upon her lovely breast. The clock-a-clay is creeping on the open bloom of May, The merry bee is trampling the pinky threads all day, And the chaffinch it is brooding on its grey mossy nest In the whitethorn bush where I will lean upon my lover's breast; I'll lean upon her breast and I'll whisper in her ear That I cannot get a wink o'sleep for thinking of my dear; I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day. For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

268. After Great Pain by Emily Dickinson Jun 23, 2008

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E Dickinson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- After Great Pain by Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886) After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round – A Wooden way Of Ground, or Air, or Ought – Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone – This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go – For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

267. I Look Into My Glass by Thomas Hardy Jun 22, 2008

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T Hardy read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- I Look Into My Glass by Thomas Hardy (1840 – 1928) I look into my glass, And view my wasting skin, And say, "Would God it came to pass My heart had shrunk as thin!" For then I, undistrest By hearts grown cold to me, Could lonely wait my endless rest With equanimity. But Time, to make me grieve, Part steals, lets part abide; And shakes this fragile frame at eve With throbbings of noontide. First aired: 15 June 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

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