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Showing posts from June, 2009

Foxtrot From a Play

Foxtrot From a Play by W. H. Auden (1907-1973) _________________ The soldier loves his rifle, The scholar loves his books, The farmer loves his horses, The film star loves her looks. There’s love the whole world over Wherever you may be; Some lose their rest for gay Mae West, But you’re my cup of tea. Some talk of Alexander And some of Fred Astaire, Some like their heroes hairy Some like them debonair, Some prefer a curate And some an A.D.C., Some like a tough to treat’em rough, But you’re my cup of tea. Some are mad on Airedales And some on Pekinese, On tabby cats or parrots Or guinea pigs or geese. There are patients in asylums Who think that they’re a tree; I had an aunt who loved a plant, But you’re my cup of tea. Some have sagging waistlines And some a bulbous nose And some a floating kidney And some have hammer toes, Some have tennis elbow And some have housemaid’s knee, And some I know have got B.O., But you’re my cup of tea. The blackb

SONNET 94--William Shakespeare

------------------------------------------ SONNET 94--William Shakespeare _________________________________ They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow, They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence. The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.