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Message: <blockquote data-quote="kenjib" data-source="post: 400896" data-attributes="member: 530">The Red WheelbarrowWilliam Carlos Williamsso much dependsupona red wheelbarrowglazed with rainwaterbeside the whitechickens.Walt Whitman (1819–1892).  Leaves of Grass.  1900.193. O Captain! My Captain!1O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;  The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;  The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,  While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:      But O heart! heart! heart!          5      O the bleeding drops of red,          Where on the deck my Captain lies,            Fallen cold and dead.    2O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;  Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;   10For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;  For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;      Here Captain! dear father!        This arm beneath your head;          It is some dream that on the deck,   15          You’ve fallen cold and dead.    3My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;  My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;  The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;  From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;   20    Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!        But I, with mournful tread,          Walk the deck my Captain lies,            Fallen cold and dead.  Sir Patrick SpensAnonymous BalladThere are many versions.  I like this short one best.The king sits in Dunfermling toune,Drinking the blude-reid wine:'O whar will I get guid sailor,To sail this schip of mine?'Up and spak an eldern knicht,Sat at the kings richt kne:'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailorThat sails upon the se.'The king has written a braid letter,And signd it wi his hand,And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,Was walking on the sand.The first line that Sir Patrick red,A loud lauch lauched he;The next line that Sir Patrick red,The teir blinded his ee.'O wha is this has don this deid,This ill deid don to me,To send me out this time o' the yeir,To sail upon the se! ''Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all,Our guid schip sails the morne:''O say na sae, my master deir,For I feir a deadlie storme.'Late late yestereen I saw the new moone,Wi the auld moone in hir arme,And I feir, I feir, my deir master,That we will cum to harme.'O our Scots nobles wer richt laithTo weet their cork-heild schoone;Bot lang owre a' the play were playd,Thair hats they swam aboone.O lang, lang may their ladies sit,Wi their fans into their hand,Or eir they se Sir Patrick SpensCum sailing to the land.O lang, lang may the ladies stand,Wi thair gold kems in their hair,Waiting for thair ain deir lords,For they'll se thame na mair.Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,It's fiftie fadom deip,And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,Wi the Scots lords at his feit.That last stanza kills me every time.Finally, my favorite of all is The Ryme of the Ancient Mariner:<a href="http://classicalsites.net/literature/rime-of-the-ancyent-marinere/mariner1.shtml" target="_blank">http://classicalsites.net/literature/rime-of-the-ancyent-marinere/mariner1.shtml</a>EDIT:  Eek!  How could I forget Beowulf and the Faerie Queen?</blockquote>

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