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					Your name
Research and Understanding Literature
Mr. Liepolt
11/4/2012




                                              Provide, Provide

                   The witch that came (the withered hag)
                   To wash the steps with pail and rag,
                   Was once the beauty Abishag1,

                   The picture pride of Hollywood.
                   Too many fall from great and good
                   For you to doubt the likelihood.

                   Die early and avoid the fate.
                   Or if predestined to die late,
                   Make up your mind to die in state.

                   Make the whole stock exchange your own!
                   If need be occupy a throne,
                   Where nobody can call you crone.

                   Some have relied on what they knew;
                   Others on simply being true.
                   What worked for them might work for you.

                   No memory of having starred
                   Atones for later disregard,
                   Or keeps the end from being hard.

                   Better to go down dignified
                   With boughten friendship at your side
                   Than none at all. Provide, provide!

                                                            Robert Frost




1
 Means "my father strays" in Hebrew. In the Old Testament she was a young woman who tended King David in his old
age.



                                                        1
Your name
Research and Understanding Literature
Mr. Liepolt
11/4/2012

                                            A. E. Housman.

                           32. To An Athlete Dying Young

              THE time you won your town the race
              We chaired you through the market-place;
              Man and boy stood cheering by,
              And home we brought you shoulder-high.

              To-day, the road all runners come,
              Shoulder-high we bring you home,
              And set you at your threshold down,
              Townsman of a stiller town.

              Smart lad, to slip betimes away
              From fields where glory does not stay,
              And early though the laurel grows
              It withers quicker than the rose.

              Eyes the shady night has shut
              Cannot see the record cut,
              And silence sounds no worse than cheers
              After earth has stopped the ears:

              Now you will not swell the rout
              Of lads that wore their honours out,
              Runners whom renown outran
              And the name died before the man.

              So set, before its echoes fade,
              The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
              And hold to the low lintel up
              The still-defended challenge-cup.

              And round that early-laurelled head
              Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
              And find unwithered on its curls
              The garland briefer than a girl's.




                                             2
Your name
Research and Understanding Literature
Mr. Liepolt
11/4/2012



                                  Politics

                                     2

              a salesman is an it that stinks Excuse

              Me whether it's president of the you were
              say
              or a jennelman name misder finger isn't
              important whether it's millions of other
              punks
              or just a handful absolutely doesn't
              matter and whether it's in lonjewray

              or shrouds is immaterial it stinks

              a salesman is an it that stinks to please

              but whether to please itself or someone else
              makes no more difference than if it sells
              hate condoms education snakeoil vac
              uumcleaners terror strawberries democ
              ra(caveat emptor)cy superfluous hair

              or Think We've Met subhuman rights Before

                                                 ee cummings




                                             3
Your name
Research and Understanding Literature
Mr. Liepolt
11/4/2012


MOTHER TO SON
    Langston Hughes

Well, son, I'll tell you:

Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

It's had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor-

Bare.

But all the time

I'se been a-climbin' on,

And reachin' landin's,

And turnin' corners,

And sometimes goin' in the dark

Where there ain't been no light.

So boy, don't you turn back.

Don't you set down on the steps

'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.

Don't you fall now--

For I'se still goin',honey,

I'se still climbin',

And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.



                                               4
Your name
Research and Understanding Literature
Mr. Liepolt
11/4/2012




DO NOT GO GENTLE

       Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightening they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight,

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


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