The Obligation to Be Happy
It is more onerous
than the rites of beauty
or housework, harder than love. . . .
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Ode
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers . . .
Ode on Solitude
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air, . . .
Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow
as if it were a scene made-up by the mind,
that is not mine, but is a made place,
. . .
['Often rebuked, yet always back returning']
Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning . . .
Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes
Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes!
How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn!
For me wilt thou renew the withered rose, . . .
Old Ironsides
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see . . .
The Old Liberators
Of all the people in the mornings at the mall,
it’s the old liberators I like best,
those veterans of the Bulge, Anzio, or Monte Cassino . . .
The Oldest Living Thing in L.A.
At Wilshire & Santa Monica I saw an opossum
Trying to cross the street. It was late, the street
Was brightly lit, the opossum would take . . .
On the Death of Anne Brontë
THERE 's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I 've lived the parting hour to see . . .
