Humanities 108

I feel the Spring far off, far off,  The faint far scent of bud and leaf--  Oh how can Spring take heart to come  To a world in grief,  Deep grief? The sun turns north, the days grow long,  Later the evening star grows bright--  How can the daylight linger on  For men to fight,  Still fight? The grass is waking in the ground,  Soon it will rise and blow in waves--  How can it have the heart to sway  Over the graves,  New graves? Under the boughs where lovers walked  The apple-blooms will shed their breath--  But what of all the lovers now  Parted by death,  Gray Death?  https://www.poemhunter.com/poems/war/page-1/32256/ -------------------------------------------------------- I chose this poem by Sara Teasdale, a famous american poet. This is a very gloomy poem which you wouldn't expect only reading the title because spring is meant to be a happy and joyful time. It sort of proves a point that war is...

People are queer, they're always crowing, scrambling and rushing about; Why don't they stop someday, address themselves this way? Why are we here? Where are we going? It's time that we found out. We're not here to stay; we're on a short holiday. Life is just a bowl of cherries. Don't take it serious; it's too mysterious. You work, you save, you worry so, But you can't take your dough when you go, go, go. So keep repeating it's the berries, The strongest oak must fall, The sweet things in life, to you were just loaned So how can you lose what you've never owned? Life is just a bowl of cherries, So live and laugh at it all. Life is just a bowl of cherries. Don't take it serious; it's too mysterious. At eight each morning I have got a date, To take my plunge 'round the Empire State. You'll admit it's not the berries, In a building that's so tall; There's a guy in the show, the girls love to kiss; Get thousands a week jus...