William Bradford (1590 – 1657) 1
At heaven shore a grower died
And left alone a little bird
With many land and million crops
With careless kin the rooster fled.
And made the sweat of corpse in vain.
As Scrooby there he joined the stain…
That tagged themselves the Puritans –
To
The pilgrims moved like slippery dove
To
- Established church above the king -
He worshipped there and ruled with love…
For distinct cares he married May,
But ended-up with sorry stay…
____________________________________
May -Dorothy May
Mary Rowlandson (1636-1678) 2
Metacomet, the bloody King
Up woke a day and planned to fling
The puritans and seize their site__
The bullet songs enforced to sing…
Like Moses’s case and Israelites’,
Mary and kin captured for sales
For Philips’s time requests for blood__
The inter-war between the tribes…
A godly soul then sat to say
In bloody ink –her holy stay
On native land that tortured them –
She tagged her takes in godly way:
The Sovereignty and His Goodness
And Faithfulness of His Promise…
Sarah Kemble Knight (1666 – 1727) 3
Set out to
The feisty Knight with companion…
On horse’s back with bravery heart
“Bitterly complained my poor bone” –
She further said, “I asked thy aid.”
To still their tongue ’til morning bread—
Wrangling topers with thundering blows
She coolly sings like hummingbird…
In
At
And sometimes here she asks for right
With tactic styles she saned insane…
Finally moved from
To
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Anne Bradstreet (1612 – 1672) 4
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) 12
(1807-1822)
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 – 1882) 17
Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849)
Bret Harte (1836 - 1902)
The Living Corpse
Between the Passionate Shepherd
and the Nymph
To live with thee is not the case
With pleasure prove and fearless face
The shepherd tongue may look like hay
But hills and fields … might move the May.
Though truth thy saiths: grow cold the rocks –
From field to fold time drives the flocks
And nightingale can change to swarm –
From sunny zone the rain must come…
From noisy swarm the honey comes;
From silent snake, the sorry comes.
The youth shall fade and love shall fold
Stepper on stream calls not the cold.
The rose of love shall fade a day;
The mode of love shall wait to pay.
The rings of loves is not the word,
The pence for soup is just the sword…
With belt of straw and ivy buds;
The coral clap and amber studs,
To two of thee may not or move –
Sometimes the things might breed the love.
My part in this is in-between
Shepherd and Nymph – mainly to warn …
With all my saiths, thy mind should move;
Then live as one and share the love.
___________________
To understand this poem better, please read
Christopher Marlow's The Personate Shepherd to His Love and Sir Walter Rally's
The Nymph's Reply to the Passionate Shepherd