Brian,+Jerry,+Patrick,+Ethan,+Varun

=Brian, Jerry, Patrick, Ethan, Varun=

In the cards and at the bend in the road we never saw you in the womb and in the crossfire in the numbers whatever you had your hand in which was everything we were told never to put our faith in you to bow to you humbly after all because in the end there was nothing else we could do but not to believe in you still we might coax you with pebbles kept warm in the hand or coins or the relics of vanished animals observances rituals not binding upon you who make no promises we might do such things only not to neglect you and risk your disfavor oh you who are never the same who are secret as the day when it comes you whom we explain as often as we can without understanding **Patrick's Pick** [] A Dream Within a Dream (FINAL CHOICE)
 * To Luck**

A Dream Within a Dream
Pby Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow — You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less //gone//? //All// that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand — How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep — while I weep! O God! Can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save //One// from the pitiless wave? Is //all// that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?
 * **Section** || **Tone** ||
 * Take this kiss upon the brow! || whimsical ||
 * And, in parting from you now || lingering ||
 * ,Thus much let me avow — || Happy, gleeful ||
 * You are not wrong, who deem || conversational ||
 * That my days have been a dream; || denunciatory ||
 * Yet if hope has flown away || disbelieving ||
 * in a night, or in a day, || calm ||
 * In a vision, or in none, || somber ||
 * Is it therefore the less // gone? // || sentimental ||
 * // All // that we see or seem || stunned ||
 * Is but a dream within a dream. || dramatic ||
 * I stand amid the roar || coy ||
 * Of a surf-tormented shore, || distracted ||
 * And I hold within my hand || thoughtful ||
 * Grains of the golden sand || touchy ||
 * —How few! yet how they creep || tense ||
 * Through my fingers to the deep, || apprehensive ||
 * While I weep — while I weep! || poignant ||
 * O God! Can I not grasp || shocked ||
 * Them with a tighter clasp? || uncertain ||
 * O God! can I not save

// One // from the pitiless wave?

is // all // that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream? || fearful

withering

pessimistic

heavy-hearted ||

[] Sonnet XXIII: Methought I Saw my Late Espoused Saint
 * Jerry's Pick**

By John Milton

Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescu'd from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the old Law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind; Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd So clear as in no face with more delight. But Oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd, I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night. [] Brian's pick **Floating Island** By Dorothy Wordsworth

Harmonious Powers with Nature work On sky, earth, river, lake, and sea: Sunshine and storm, whirlwind and breeze All in one duteous task agree. Once did I see a slip of earth, By throbbing waves long undermined, Loosed from its hold; — //how// no one knew But all might see it float, obedient to the wind. Might see it, from the mossy shore Dissevered float upon the Lake, Float, with its crest of trees adorned On which the warbling birds their pastime take. Food, shelter, safety there they find There berries ripen, flowerets bloom; There insects live their lives — and die: A peopled //world// it is; in size a tiny room. And thus through many seasons’ space This little Island may survive But Nature, though we mark her not, Will take away — may cease to give. Perchance when you are wandering forth Upon some vacant sunny day Without an object, hope, or fear, Thither your eyes may turn — the Isle is passed away. Buried beneath the glittering Lake! Its place no longer to be found, Yet the lost fragments shall remain, To fertilize some other ground.[] **Ethan's Final Pick** **[]**  **http://voicethread.com/share/1480452/** ==**I FELT A FUNERAL IN MY BRAIN** ==  BY EMILY DICKINSON

I felt a Funeral in my Brain,And Mourners, to and fro,Kept treading — treading — till it seemedThat Sense was breaking through — And when they all were seated,A Service like a Drum —Kept beating — beating — till I thoughtMy Mind was going numb — And then I heard them lift a Box,And creak across my SoulWith those same Boots of Lead, again.Then Space — began to toll As all the Heavens were a Bell,And Being but an Ear,And I and Silence some strange Race,Wrecked, solitary, here — And then a Plank in Reason, broke,And I dropped down, and down—And hit a World, at every plunge,And Finished knowing — then — Solitude
 * Varun's Pick**
 * []**

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer; Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes bound to a joyful sound, But shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you; Grieve, and they turn and go; They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many; Be sad, and you lose them all,— There are none to decline your nectared wine, But alone you must drink life’s gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded; Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on Through the narrow aisles of pain **Tone Map Template**


 * **Section** || **Tone** ||
 * Methought I saw my late espoused saint || Frightened ||
 * Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, || Disbelieving ||
 * Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave, || Serious ||
 * Rescu’d from death by force, though pale and faint. || Languid ||
 * Mine, as whom wash’d from spot of child-bed taint || Upset ||
 * Purification in the old Law did save || Zealous ||
 * And such as yet once more I trust to have || Naive ||
 * Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, || Subdued ||
 * Came vested all in white, pure as her mind; || Sharp ||
 * Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight || Cold ||
 * Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd || Heavy-Hearted ||
 * So clear as in no face with more delight. || Tense ||
 * But Oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd, || Self-dramatizing ||
 * I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night. || Uncertain ||