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Epic : Beowolf O flower of warriors, beware of that trap.Choose, dear Beowulf, the better part,eternal rewards. Do not give way to pride.For a brief while your strength is in bloombut it fades quickly; and soon there will follow illness or the sword to lay you low,or a sudden fire or surge of wateror jabbing blade or javelin from the airor repellent age. Your piercing eyewill dim and darken; and death will arrive, dear warrior, to sweep you away.
Ode to Maiz: Pablo Neruda America, from a grainof maize you grewto crownwith spacious landsthe ocean foam.A grain of maize was your geography.From the graina green lance rose,was covered with gold,to grace the heightsof Peru with its yellow tassels.
Sonnet 130 - Shakespeare My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips' red;If snow be white, why then she is nothing but dun;If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks.I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat music hath a far more pleasing sound;I grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
Ballad of Birmingham "Mother dear, may I go downtown Instead of out to play, And march the streets of Birmingham In a Freedom March today?" "No, baby, no, you may not go, For the dogs are fierce and wild, And clubs and hoses, guns and jails Aren't good for a little child."
