Dearest of thousands, now the time drawes neere,
That with my Lines, my Life must full-stop here.
Cut off thy haires; and let thy Teares be shed
Over my Turfe, when I am buried.
Then for effusions, let none wanting be,
Or other Rites that doe belong to me;
As Love shall helpe thee, when thou do'st go hence
Unto thy everlasting residence.

Dear to me were the three sides
Which I hope not to visit again:
The side of Tara, the side of Teltown
And the side of Aed son of Ainmire.

Dear things! we would not have you learn too much —
Your Ignorance is so charming! We've a notion
That greater knowledge might not lend you such
Sure aid to blind obedience and devotion.

The dear old ladies whose cheeks are pink
In spite of the years of Winter's chill,
Are like the Autumn leaves I think,
A little crumpled, but lovely still.

Dear Mr. Noman, does it ever strike you,
The more we see of you, the less we like you?

Dead in the cold, a song-singing thrush,
Dead at the foot of a snowberry bush--
Weave him a coffin of rush,
Dig him a grave where the soft mosses grow,
Raise him a tombstone of snow.

Dawn breaks, snow patches lie on the slopes:
far away, they seem like flocks of sheep
or maybe geese.
Remember — plodding through spring mud
to see the budding willows,
in camel-hair robe and sable hat
crossing the icy river.

DAvid, the king, was grieved and moved,
He went to his chamber, his chamber, and wept.
And as he went, he wept and said,
" O my son, O my son!
Would to God I had died, would to God I had died,
Would to God I had died for thee,
O Absalom, my son, my son. "

Dasius, chucker-out
at the Turkish Baths,
is a shrewd assessor;
when he saw big-titted
Spatale coming, he decided
to charge her entry for three
persons. What did she do?
Paid with pride of course.

Darkness marks the distance where river meets ocean;
I long for my friend — may he arrive with spring!
Vast, vast the moonlight scatters on the ripples;
in the sighing of the wind, fishermen's fires appear.