Choose Something Like a Star
Robert Frost
O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud—
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says, ‘I burn.’
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.
It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid
No More Witches
All this darkness
All this darkness gathering
As the rain falls
And the floodwaters rise
And our crops are destroyed
And there are no more witches
And there are no more witches
For us to burn
And so we create them
And then we seek them out
And then we magnify them
And we rub our hands against the warmth
Of the flames, as we reduce them to ashes
And yet the floodwaters still rise
And yet the darkness still gathers
It gathers
It gathers
(For people of a certain nationality):
So Sick of Drowning 