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Posted: 10/29/2006 4:27:14 PM EST
any suggestions would help,having a hard time picking
Link Posted: 10/29/2006 4:48:18 PM EST
I always loved Robert Louis Stephenson's epitaph:

Under the wide and starry sky,
dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
and I lay me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor home from the sea,
and the hunter home from the hill.

and the link:

http://www.quicklyfind.com/quote-robert_louis_stevenson.html

Link Posted: 10/29/2006 4:54:55 PM EST
No Man is an Island
No man is an island, entire of itself
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were
any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for thee.


-- John Donne

Not really a poem. but one of my favorites.
Link Posted: 10/29/2006 4:57:29 PM EST
Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

-- William Ernest Henley
Link Posted: 10/29/2006 5:01:18 PM EST
The Tiger
William Blake

Tiger Tiger. burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


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