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WHEN I WAS ONE-AND-TWENTY
A.E. Housman 1859-1936

When I was one-and-twenty
       I heard a wise man say,
“Give crowns and pounds and guineas
       But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
       But keep your fancy free.”
But I was one-and-twenty,
       No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
       I heard him say again,
“The heart out of the bosom
       Was never given in vain;
’Tis paid with sighs a plenty
       And sold for endless rue.”
And I am two-and-twenty,
       And oh, ’tis true, ’tis true.

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THE SKYLARK
James Hogg 1770-1835

Bird of the wilderness,
Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place,
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!

Wild is thy lay and loud,
Far in the downy cloud,
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where, on thy dewy wing,
Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

O'er fell and fountain sheen,
O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day,
Over the cloudlet dim,
Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!

Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place,
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!

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LOVE’S BEEN GOOD TO ME
Rod McKuen b.1933

I have been a rover,
I have walked alone,
Hiked a hundred highways,
Never found a home,
Still in all I'm happy,
The reason is, you see,
Once in a while along the way
Love's been good to me.

There was a girl in Denver
Before the summer storm,
Oh, her eyes were tender,
Oh, her arms were warm,
And she could smile away the thunder,
Kiss away the rain,
Even though she's gone away,
You won't hear me complain.

There was a girl in Portland
Before the winter chill,
We used to go a-courtin'
Along October hill,
And she could laugh away the dark clouds,
Cry away the snow,
It seems like only yesterday
As down the road I go.

I've been a rover,
I have walked alone,
Hiked a hundred highways,
Never found a home,
Still in all I'm happy,
The reason is, you see,
Once in a while along the way
Love's been good to me.

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THE OLD WOMAN
Joseph Campbell (Seosamh MacCathmhaoil) 1879-1944

As a white candle in a holy place
So is the beauty of an aged face.
As the spent radiance of the winter sun,
So is a woman with her travail done,
Her brood gone from her and her thoughts as still
As the waters under a ruined mill.

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More poems on Thursday

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