Molly+V

= Sad Poems = All poems are from //Sound and Sense//.

**"Questions"** by May Swenson
Body my house my horse my hound what will I do when you are fallen

Where will I sleep How will I ride What will I hunt

Where can I go without my mount all eager and quick How will i know in thicket ahead is danger or treasure when Body my good bright dog is dead

How will it be to lie in the sky without roof or door and wind for an eye

With cloud for a shift how will I hide?

**"We Wear the Mask"** by Paul Laurence Dunbar We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, — This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile , And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be over-wise , In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the miles; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask!

Over all idea of the poem.

**"Sympathy"** by Paul Laurence Dunbar
I know what the caged bird feels, alas! When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs so softly through the springing grass , And the river flows like a stream of glass ; When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals — I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must fly back to his perch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting — I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,— When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee , But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings — I know why the caged bird sings!

**"I lik****e a look of Agony"** by Emily Dickinson
I like the look of Agony, Because I know it's true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—

The Eyes glaze once—and that is Death— Impossible to feign The Beads upon the Forehead By homely Anguish stung.

**"Mad Girl's Love Song"** by Sylvia Plath I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

The Big Wrap Up