Classic Poetry Aloud

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The Choice by Dante Gabriel Rossetti Jan 26, 2008

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Rossetti read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Choice by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828 – 1882) Think thou and act; to-morrow thou shalt die. Outstretch'd in the sun's warmth upon the shore, Thou say'st: "Man's measur'd path is all gone o'er: Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh, Man clomb until he touch'd the truth; and I, Even I, am he whom it was destin'd for." How should this be? Art thou then so much more Than they who sow'd, that thou shouldst reap thereby? Nay, come up hither. From this wave-wash'd mound Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me; Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd. Miles and miles distant though the last line be, And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond,- Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea.

The Tide Rises The Tide Falls by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Jan 25, 2008

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Longfellow read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls; The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls. The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Comments For more readings of Longfellow's work, visit: http://classicpoetryaloud.wordpress.com/category/Henry-Wadsworth-Longfellow/

Spleen by Ernest Dowson Jan 24, 2008

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Dowson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Spleen by Ernest Dowson (1867 – 1900) I was not sorrowful, I could not weep, And all my memories were put to sleep. I watched the river grow more white and strange, All day till evening I watched it change. All day till evening I watched the rain Beat wearily upon the window pane I was not sorrowful, but only tired Of everything that ever I desired. Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me The shadow of a shadow utterly. All day mine hunger for her heart became Oblivion, until the evening came, And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep, With all my memories that could not sleep.

Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley Jan 23, 2008

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Shelley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 – 1822) The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle – Why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdain'd its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea – What are all these kissings worth, If thou kiss not me?

Blow Bugle Blow by Alfred Lord Tennyson Jan 22, 2008

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Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Blow, Bugle, Blow by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892) The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. You can find more readings of Tennyson's work at: http://classicpoetryaloud.wordpress.com/category/Alfred-Lord-Tennyson/

The Garden of Love by William Blake Jan 21, 2008

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Blake read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- The Garden of Love by William Blake (1757 – 1827) I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen; A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tombstones where flowers should be; And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, And binding with briars my joys and desires.

The Voice by Thomas Hardy Jan 19, 2008

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Hardy read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- The Voice by Thomas Hardy (1840 – 1928) Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me, Saying that now you are not as you were When you had changed from the one who was all to me, But as at first, when our day was fair. Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then, Standing as when I drew near to the town Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then, Even to the original air-blue gown! Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessness Travelling across the wet mead to me here, You being ever consigned to existlessness, Heard no more again far or near? Thus I; faltering forward, Leaves around me falling, Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward And the woman calling.

Platonic Love by Abraham Cowley Jan 18, 2008

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Cowley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- Platonic Love by Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667) Indeed I must confess, When souls mix 'tis an happiness, But not complete till bodies too do join, And both our wholes into one whole combine; But half of heaven the souls in glory taste Till by love in heaven at last Their bodies too are placed. In thy immortal part Man, as well as I, thou art. But something 'tis that differs thee and me, And we must one even in that difference be. I thee both as a man and woman prize, For a perfect love implies Love in all capacities. Can that for true love pass When a fair woman courts her glass? Something unlike must in love's likeness be: His wonder is one and variety. For he whose soul nought but a soul can move Does a new Narcissus prove, And his own image love. That souls do beauty know 'Tis to the body's help they owe; If when they know't they straight abuse that trust And shut the body from't, 'tis as unjust As if I brought my dearest friend to see My mistress and at th' instant he Should steal her quite from me.

Give Me Leave to Rail at You by John Wilmot Jan 17, 2008

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Wilmot read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Give Me Leave to Rail at You by John Wilmot (1647 – 1680) Give me leave to rail at you, - I ask nothing but my due: To call you false, and then to say You shall not keep my heart a day. But alas! against my will I must be your captive still. Ah! be kinder, then, for I Cannot change, and would not die. Kindness has resistless charms; All besides but weakly move; Fiercest anger it disarms, And clips the wings of flying love. Beauty does the heart invade, Kindness only can persuade; It gilds the lover's servile chain, And makes the slave grow pleased again.

Ozymandias by Horace Smith Jan 16, 2008

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Horace Smith read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Ozymandias by Horace Smith (1779-1849) In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone, Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws The only shadow that the Desart knows:— "I am great OZYMANDIAS ," saith the stone, "The King of Kings; this mighty City shows "The wonders of my hand."— The City's gone,— Nought but the Leg remaining to disclose The site of this forgotten Babylon. We wonder,—and some Hunter may express Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace, He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess What powerful but unrecorded race Once dwelt in that annihilated place.

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