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Shakespeare’s sonnet no 1 From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty’s rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory: But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed’st thy light’st flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.    Pity the world, or else this glutton be,    To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee. Summary: Sonnet 1 The first sonnet takes it as a given that “From fairest creatures we desire increase”— that is, that we desire beautiful creatures to multiply, in order to preserve their “beauty’s rose” for the world. That way, when the parent dies (“as the riper should by time decea...

The Fountain BY CHARLES BAUDELAIRE TRANSLATED BY ANTHONY HECHT My dear, your eyes are weary; Rest them a little while. Assume the languid posture Of pleasure mixed with guile. Outside the talkative fountain Continues night and day Repeating my warm passion In whatever it has to say.              The sheer luminous gown                            The fountain wears              Where Phoebe’s very own                            Color appears              Falls like a summer rain   ...

Song of the Open Road by walt whitman Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever Ichoose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road. The earth, that is sufficient, I do not want the constellations any nearer, I know they are very well where they are, I know they suffice for those who belong to them. (Still here I carry my old delicious burdens, I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go, I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them, I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.) -Walt whitman THEME OF THE POEM: Walt Whitman, a well known poet, essayist and journalist of America broadly called a father of free verse. This poem is w...