Earth

At nine point eight meters per second
per second
Earth clasps us to her bosom
In response we spurn her with our heels like
teenagers at home

Where else will we go --?
Out
with our friends to a club on Io
and next morning,
when all the garish cans of flat fizz
contain ash and God knows what,
What gentle curved horizon
will we press our drooping cheek to
and snore like babes?

Love is a Sickness

Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?

More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries--
Heigh ho!

Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind
Not well, nor full nor fasting.
Why so?

More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries--
Heigh ho!

Samuel Daniel

And finally the ~ Song of the Day:

I Leave Thee for Awhile

I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh;
The fountain spring within my soul is playing in mine eye;
I do not blush to own the tear,-let, let it touch my cheek,
And what my lip has failed to tell, that drop perchance may speak.
Mavourneen! when again I seek my green isle in the West,
Oh, promise thou wilt share my lot, and set this heart at rest.

I leave thee for awhile, my love; but every hour will be
Uncheered and lonely till the one that brings me back to thee.
I go to make my riches more; but where is man to find
A vein of gold so rich and pure as that I leave behind?
Mavourneen! though my home might be the fairest earth possessed,
Till thou wouldst share and make it warm, this heart would know no rest.

I leave thee for awhile, my love; my cheek is cold and white,
But ah, I see a promise stand within thy glance of light;
When next I seek old, Erin's shore, thy step will bless it too,
And then the grass will seem more green, the sky will have more blue.
Mavourneen! first and dearest loved, there's sunshine in my breast,
For thou wilt share my future lot, and set this heart at rest.

Eliza Cook