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Poems Teachers Ask For, Book Two
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By one alone of all the village.
The oak and cedar bend and writhe
When roars the wind through gap and braken;
But 'tis the tenderest reed of all
That trembles first when Earth is shaken.
Robert Henry Newell.
The King's Ring
Once in Persia reigned a king
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words; and these are they:
"Even this shall pass away."
Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand,
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain—
Treasurer of the mine and main,
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
"Even this shall pass away."
In the revels of his court
At the zenith of the sport,
When the palms of all his guests
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine,
Cried: "O loving friends of mine!
Pleasures come, but not to stay,
Even this shall pass away."
Fighting on a furious field
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers with loud lament
Bore him bleeding to his tent,
Groaning with his tortured side.
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried;
"But with patience day by day,
Even this shall pass away."
Struck with palsy, sere and old,
Waiting at the gates of gold,
Spake he with his dying breath:
"Life is done, but what is death?"
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sunbeam on his ring,
Showing by a heavenly ray:
"Even this shall pass away."
Theodore Tilton.
Leaving the Homestead
You're going to leave the homestead, John,
You're twenty-one to-day:
And very sorry am I, John,
To see you go away.
You've labored late and early, John,
And done the best you could;
I ain't going to stop you, John,
I wouldn't if I could.
Yet something of your feelings, John,
I s'pose I'd ought to know,
Though many a day has passed away—
'Twas forty years ago—
When hope was high within me, John,
And life lay all before,
That I, with strong and measured stroke,
"Cut loose" and pulled from shore.
The years they come and go, my boy,
The years they come and go;
And raven locks and tresses brown
Grow white as driven snow.
My life has known its sorrows, John,
Its trials and troubles sore;
Yet God withal has blessed me, John,
"In basket and in store."
But one thing let me tell you, John,
Before you make a start,
There's more in being honest, John,
Twice o'er than being smart.
Though rogues may seem to flourish, John,
And sterling worth to fail,
Oh! keep in view the good and true;
'Twill in the end prevail.
Don't think too much of money, John,
And dig and delve and plan,
And rake and scrape in every shape,
To hoard up all you can.
The oak and cedar bend and writhe
When roars the wind through gap and braken;
But 'tis the tenderest reed of all
That trembles first when Earth is shaken.
Robert Henry Newell.
The King's Ring
Once in Persia reigned a king
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words; and these are they:
"Even this shall pass away."
Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand,
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain—
Treasurer of the mine and main,
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
"Even this shall pass away."
In the revels of his court
At the zenith of the sport,
When the palms of all his guests
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine,
Cried: "O loving friends of mine!
Pleasures come, but not to stay,
Even this shall pass away."
Fighting on a furious field
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers with loud lament
Bore him bleeding to his tent,
Groaning with his tortured side.
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried;
"But with patience day by day,
Even this shall pass away."
Struck with palsy, sere and old,
Waiting at the gates of gold,
Spake he with his dying breath:
"Life is done, but what is death?"
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sunbeam on his ring,
Showing by a heavenly ray:
"Even this shall pass away."
Theodore Tilton.
Leaving the Homestead
You're going to leave the homestead, John,
You're twenty-one to-day:
And very sorry am I, John,
To see you go away.
You've labored late and early, John,
And done the best you could;
I ain't going to stop you, John,
I wouldn't if I could.
Yet something of your feelings, John,
I s'pose I'd ought to know,
Though many a day has passed away—
'Twas forty years ago—
When hope was high within me, John,
And life lay all before,
That I, with strong and measured stroke,
"Cut loose" and pulled from shore.
The years they come and go, my boy,
The years they come and go;
And raven locks and tresses brown
Grow white as driven snow.
My life has known its sorrows, John,
Its trials and troubles sore;
Yet God withal has blessed me, John,
"In basket and in store."
But one thing let me tell you, John,
Before you make a start,
There's more in being honest, John,
Twice o'er than being smart.
Though rogues may seem to flourish, John,
And sterling worth to fail,
Oh! keep in view the good and true;
'Twill in the end prevail.
Don't think too much of money, John,
And dig and delve and plan,
And rake and scrape in every shape,
To hoard up all you can.
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Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее