Poem of the ..poem! sip if the sip...

Lol well anything, I forgot what Sib used to call it, and well not of the week or the month or anything, but I just wanted to share a couple of old poems, that I come to find, very very special.

by Ben Jonson

To Celia

Drink to me, only, with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine:
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st back to me:
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

----

Bread and Music
by Conrad Aiken

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

-----

I want to share 2 more poems, but not today.

Wasn't it the Daily Sip? lol

Yes yes, but this isn't the daily SIB lol, just something I wanted to share over here :P

Well, I saw "sip" and I first thought it said "sib," so clearly I figured it had to do with me. ; D

I'll be honest, I haven't read the poems yet. But I was thinking we need to get the WOTD and poem stuff going again.

Hahaha. I laughed out loud about the title and how she replaced it with the 'poem if the poem, sip if the sip' something. Omg, can't stop laughing, it was just adorable.

I like the second one. Really, so cozy and poignant.

IF.....

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

- - Rudyard Kipling

Larry, I'm so moved and happy that you posted this! A couple of months ago I was looking through our books and I found a really old Kipling book and then one with a collection of his poems. I found out it was my dad's and that he had starred some of his favorite ones. I asked him about it and he read it to me- it's incredibly inspiring! Such a life lesson to learn by :)

I think Michael introduced this for me last year! I might be wrong, but I also I'm very glad that you brought it up. an awesomely meaningful piece.
Thanks Larry! It sounds impossible to be a man...in these days, in this world, however..

I do know this poem
I stupidly thought it was by Malcolm x though
I could swear I saw him saying it in a speech somewhere
Or that could be my imagination
Never the less
One powerful poem it iz