Every rose on the little tree
Is making a different face at me!
Some look surprised when I pass by,
And others droop—but they are shy.
These two whose heads together press
Tell secrets I could never guess.
Some have their heads thrown back to sing,
And all the buds are listening.
I wonder if the gardener knows,
Or if he calls each just a rose?

Every October millions of little fish come along the shore,
Coasting this granite edge of the continent
On their lawful occasions: but what a festival for the sea-fowl.
What a witches' sabbath of wings
Hides the dark water. The heavy pelicans shout “Haw!” like Job's friend's warhorse
And dive from the high air, the cormorants
Slip their long black bodies under the water and hunt like wolves
Through the green half-light. Screaming, the gulls watch,
Wild with envy and malice, cursing and snatching. What hysterical greed!
What a filling of pouches! the mob

Every night I sleep
And every night I dream
That I'm strolling with my sheep
By the old stream.

Every morn I wake,
And every morn I stand
And watch the shrapnel break
On the smashed land.

Some night I'll fall asleep
And will not wake at dawn.
I'll lie and feed my sheep
On a green Lawn.

Every morning I get up
Beautiful as the Goddess
Of love in Enchanted Mountain.
Every night I go to bed
Seductive as Yang Kuei-fei,
The imperial concubine.
My slender waist and thighs
Are exhausted and weak
From a night of cloud dancing.
But my eyes are still lewd,
And my cheeks are flushed.
My old wet nurse combs
My cloud-like hair.
My lover, fragrant as incense,
Adjusts my jade hairpins, and
Draws on my silk stockings
Over my feet and legs
Perfumed with orchids;
And once again we fall over
Overwhelmed with passion.

Every morning at
six o'clock I go to my work,
Over coat buttoned up 'round my neck no job would I shirk,
Winter wind blows 'round my head cuting up my face, I
tell you what I'd like to have my dear old father's place.
A man named Work moved
into town, and father heard the news, With
Work, so near my father started shaking in his shoes, When
Mister Work walked by my house he saw with great surprise, My
father sitting in his chair with blinders on his eyes.
At beating carpets
father said he simply was immense, We

Every evening before the sea departs from Beirut
he leaves a desire with her,
an apprehension. Like any little boy,
the sea dreams that what besieges
Beirut and bursts in her heart is
nothing but a fleeting passion;
nothing but a nightmare born
in her bed and gone scurrying
through her streets and hotels,
pausing at the harbor and
melting in every atom of the air.

Every evening the sea sends her his good wishes
and letters;
when roused by the sound of guns
and roaring tanks, he
is overcome by surprise or terror

Gay, gay, gay, gay,
Think on dredful Domesday.

Every day thou might lere
To helpe thyself whil thou art here:
Whan thou art ded and leid on bere
Christ help thy soule, for thou ne may.

Think, man, on thy wittes five,
Do sum good whil thou art on live:
Go to Cherche and do thee shrive,
And bring thy soule in good array.

Think, man, on thy sinnes sevene,
Think how merye it is in Hevene:
Prey to God, with milde stevene,
He be thine help on Domesday.

Loke that thou non thing stere,
Ne non fals witnesse bere;

Every day is a fresh beginning,
Listen my soul to the glad refrain.
And, spite of old sorrows
And older sinning,
Troubles forecasted
And possible pain,
Take heart with the day and begin again.

Every day I receive the Imperial favor
as I attend upon His carriage.
But no matter what I do, I never forget the family!
I send this to you now, Ch'ao-erh, to say,
be diligent in your studies of the Documents and Poems:
don't upset your dad!

1
The everlasting universe of things
Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves,
Now dark--now glittering--now reflecting gloom--
Now lending splendor, where from secret springs
The source of human thought its tribute brings
Of waters,--with a sound but half its own,
Such as a feeble brook will oft assume
In the wild woods, among the mountains lone,
Where waterfalls around it leap for ever,
Where woods and winds contend, and a vast river
Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts and raves.
2