Classic Poetry Aloud

CG Rossetti read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Song by Christina Georgina Rossetti(1830 – 1894) When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget. For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. To be notified of new postings, and to receive some extra, short text about each poetry reading, join the mailing list.

CG Rossetti read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Song by Christina Georgina Rossetti(1830 – 1894) When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget. For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. To be notified of new postings, and to receive some extra, short text about each poetry reading, join the mailing list.

The Latest Decalogue by Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-1861) Thou shalt have one God only; who Would be at the expense of two? No graven images may be Worshipped, except the currency: Swear not at all; for, for thy curse Thine enemy is none the worse: At church on Sunday to attend Will serve to keep the world thy friend: Honour thy parents; that is, all From whom advancement may befall: Thou shalt not kill, but need'st not strive Officiously to keep alive: Do not adultery commit; Advantage rarely comes of it: Thou shalt not steal; an empty feat, When it's so lucrative to cheat: Bear not false witness; let the lie Have time on its own wings to fly: Thou shalt not covet; but tradition Approves all forms of competition. The sum of all is, thou shalt love, If anybody, God above: At any rate shall never labour _More_ than thyself to love thy neighbour.

The Latest Decalogue by Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-1861) Thou shalt have one God only; who Would be at the expense of two? No graven images may be Worshipped, except the currency: Swear not at all; for, for thy curse Thine enemy is none the worse: At church on Sunday to attend Will serve to keep the world thy friend: Honour thy parents; that is, all From whom advancement may befall: Thou shalt not kill, but need'st not strive Officiously to keep alive: Do not adultery commit; Advantage rarely comes of it: Thou shalt not steal; an empty feat, When it's so lucrative to cheat: Bear not false witness; let the lie Have time on its own wings to fly: Thou shalt not covet; but tradition Approves all forms of competition. The sum of all is, thou shalt love, If anybody, God above: At any rate shall never labour _More_ than thyself to love thy neighbour.

The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Longfellow read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow(1807 – 1882) I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. If you enjoyed this, why not become a fan of Classic Poetry Aloud? To be notified of new postings, and to receive some extra, short text about each poetry reading, join the mailing list.

The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Longfellow read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow(1807 – 1882) I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. If you enjoyed this, why not become a fan of Classic Poetry Aloud? To be notified of new postings, and to receive some extra, short text about each poetry reading, join the mailing list.

Suckling read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Why So Pale and Wan? by Sir John Suckling (1609 – 1642) Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do 't? Prithee, why so mute? Quit, quit for shame! This will not move; This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her! If you enjoyed this, why not become a fan of Classic Poetry Aloud? To be notified of new postings, and to receive some extra, short text about each poetry reading, join the mailing list.

Suckling read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- Why So Pale and Wan? by Sir John Suckling (1609 – 1642) Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do 't? Prithee, why so mute? Quit, quit for shame! This will not move; This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her! If you enjoyed this, why not become a fan of Classic Poetry Aloud? To be notified of new postings, and to receive some extra, short text about each poetry reading, join the mailing list.

Landor read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The One White Hair by Walter Savage Landor (1775 – 1864) The wisest of the wise Listen to pretty lies And love to hear'em told. Doubt not that Solomon Listened to many a one, - Some in his youth, and more when he grew old. I never was among The choir of Wisdom's song, But pretty lies loved I As much as any king, When youth was on the wing, And (must it then be told?) when youth had quite gone by. Alas! and I have not The pleasant hour forgot When one pert lady said, "O Walter! I am quite Bewildered with affright! I see (sit quiet now) a white hair on your head!" Another more benign Snipped it away from mine, And in her own dark hair Pretended it was found … She leaped, and twirled it round … Fair as she was, she never was so fair!

Landor read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The One White Hair by Walter Savage Landor (1775 – 1864) The wisest of the wise Listen to pretty lies And love to hear'em told. Doubt not that Solomon Listened to many a one, - Some in his youth, and more when he grew old. I never was among The choir of Wisdom's song, But pretty lies loved I As much as any king, When youth was on the wing, And (must it then be told?) when youth had quite gone by. Alas! and I have not The pleasant hour forgot When one pert lady said, "O Walter! I am quite Bewildered with affright! I see (sit quiet now) a white hair on your head!" Another more benign Snipped it away from mine, And in her own dark hair Pretended it was found … She leaped, and twirled it round … Fair as she was, she never was so fair!

Wordsworth read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- To Toussaint L'Ouverture by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den; - O miserable Chieftain! where and when Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow: Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

Wordsworth read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- To Toussaint L'Ouverture by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den; - O miserable Chieftain! where and when Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow: Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

George Eliot read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- I am Lonely by George Eliot (1819 – 1880) The world is great: the birds all fly from me, The stars are golden fruit upon a tree All out of reach: my little sister went, And I am lonely. The world is great: I tried to mount the hill Above the pines, where the light lies so still, But it rose higher: little Lisa went And I am lonely. The world is great: the wind comes rushing by. I wonder where it comes from; sea birds cry And hurt my heart: my little sister went, And I am lonely. The world is great: the people laugh and talk, And make loud holiday: how fast they walk! I'm lame, they push me: little Lisa went, And I am lonely.

George Eliot read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- I am Lonely by George Eliot (1819 – 1880) The world is great: the birds all fly from me, The stars are golden fruit upon a tree All out of reach: my little sister went, And I am lonely. The world is great: I tried to mount the hill Above the pines, where the light lies so still, But it rose higher: little Lisa went And I am lonely. The world is great: the wind comes rushing by. I wonder where it comes from; sea birds cry And hurt my heart: my little sister went, And I am lonely. The world is great: the people laugh and talk, And make loud holiday: how fast they walk! I'm lame, they push me: little Lisa went, And I am lonely.

Hopkins read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://classicpoetryaloud.podomatic.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- The Windhover To Christ our Lord by Gerard Manley Hopkins I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing, As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing! Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier! No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion. First aired 28 July 2007