Text Box: Here, voices from all over the world will share the magic of the spoken word. Close your eyes and imagine yourself in the warm glow deep within  the home tunnels as your fellow fans recite a favorite passage or read a much loved poem especially for you. (Click on title or rose to hear) Text Box: Surprised by Joy, by William Wordsworth read by Amber Surprised by joy--impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport--Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind-- But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss?--That thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; That neither present time, nor years unborn Could to my sight that heavenly face restore. The Night has a Thousand Eyes Francis William read by Wayne The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one: Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done. My Love by Fanny Kemble read by jecris There's not a fibre in my trembling frame That does not vibrate when thy step draws near, There's not a pulse that throbs not when I hear Thy voice, thy breathing, nay thy very name. When thou art with me every sense seems dim, And all I am, or know, or feel is thee; My soul grows faint, my veins run liquid flame, And my bewildered spirit seems to swim In eddying whirls of passion, dizzily. When thou art gone, there creeps into my heart A cold and bitter consciousness of pain: The light, the warmth of life with thee depart, And I sit dreaming over and over again Thy greeting clasp, thy parting look and tone; And suddenly I wake--and am alone. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Robert Frost Read by daria Whose woods these are I think I know, His house is in the village though. He will not see me stopping here, To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer, To stop without a farmhouse near, Between the woods and frozen lake, The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake, To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep, Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. The Way Through the Woods Rudyard Kipling Read by daria They shut the road through the woods Seventy years ago. Weather and rain have undone it again, And now you would never know There was once a road through the woods Before they planted the trees. It is underneath the coppice and heath, And the thin anemones. Only the keeper sees That, where the ring-dove broods, And the badgers roll at ease, There was once a road through the woods. Yet, if you enter the woods Of a summer evening late, When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools Where the otter whistles his mate. (They fear not men in the woods, Because they see so few) You will hear the beat of a horse's feet, And the swish of a skirt in the dew, Steadily cantering through The misty solitudes, As though they perfectly knew The old lost road through the woods . . . . But there is no road through the woods. Between Us Now Thomas Hardy Read by daria Between us now and here— Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear Life’s flushest feather— Who see the scenes slide past, The daytimes dimming fast, Let there be truth at last, Even if despair. So thoroughly and long Have you now known me, So real in faith and strong Have I now shown me, That nothing needs disguise Further in any wise, Or asks or justifies A guarded tongue. Face unto face, then, say, Eyes my own meeting, Is your heart far away, Or with mine beating? When false things are brought low, And swift things have grown slow, Feigning like froth shall go, Faith be for aye. Come in Robert Frost Read by daria As I came to the edge of the woods, Thrush music -- hark! Now if it was dusk outside, Inside it was dark. Too dark in the woods for a bird By sleight of wing To better its perch for the night, Though it still could sing. The last of the light of the sun That had died in the west Still lived for one song more In a thrush's breast. Far in the pillared dark Thrush music went -- Almost like a call to come in To the dark and lament. But no, I was out for stars; I would not come in. I meant not even if asked; And I hadn't been. Kubla Khan OR, A VISION IN A DREAM. A FRAGMENT. Samuel Taylor Coleridge read by daria In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced : Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war ! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice ! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. Text Box: Estoy Sentado Como Un Inválido En El Desierto De Mi Deseo De Ti by Juan Gelman read by Lamartus Me he acostumbrado a beber la noche lentamente, porque sé que la habitas, no importa dónde, poblándola de sueños. El viento de la noche abate estrellas temblorosas en mis manos, que aún no se conforman, viudas inconsolables de tu pelo. En mi corazón se agitan los pájaros que en él sembraste y a veces les daría la libertad que exigen para volver a ti, con el helado filo del cuchillo. Pero no puede ser. Porque estás tan en mí, tan viva en mí, que si me muero a tí te moriría. Panther, Panther by John Hall Wheelock read by Wayne There is a panther caged within my breast; But what his name, there is no breast shall know Save mine, nor what it is that drives him so, Backward and forward, in relentless quest-- That silent rage, baffled but unsuppressed, The soft pad of those stealthy feet that go Over my body's prisons to and fro, Trying the walls forever without rest. All day I feed him with my living heart; But when the night puts forth her dreams and stars, The inexorable Frenzy reawakes; His wrath is hurled upon the trembling bars, The eternal passion stretches me apart, And I lie silent--but my body shakes. Meeting at Night Robert Browning read by daria The grey sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each! Remember Christina Rossetti read by daria Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad. Spellbound Emily Jane Bronte read by daria The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow. And the storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below; But nothing drear can move me; I will not, cannot go. Stop all the clocks W. H. Auden read by daria Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. The Road Not Taken Robert Frost read by daria Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. who knows if the moon's a balloon e.e. cummings read by daria who knows if the moon's a balloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky--filled with pretty people? (and if you and i should get into it,if they should take me and take you into their balloon, why then we'd go up higher with all the pretty people than houses and steeples and clouds: go sailing away and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,where always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Emily Dickinson read by daria Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds To a heart in port, Done with the compass, Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden! Ah! the sea! Might I but moor To-night in Thee! Daffodils William Wordsworth's Read by daria I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretch'd in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. Text Box: The Passionate Shepherd to His Love Christopher Marlowe read by Wayne Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love. The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love. Pigs in the House by Steven Kroll read by jecris In their pigpen nice and wide, three cute pigs lived side by side. Farmer mack came in one day, fed the pigs and spread some hay. He was running very late and forgot to lock the gate. With a breeze it opened wide, so the pigs just ran outside. Mack was busy planting seeds. Bess, his wife, was pulling weeds. Rex, the dog, was outside too, getting all the cows to moo. No one saw or seemed to care. Pigs went up the farmhouse stairs. First the den, look what they found, pressed some buttons -- trains went round! Next the TV -- lots of noise -- and a carton full of toys. In the bedroom they don't rest -- pigs put bedsprings to the test. Oh, the kitchen! Bubbly shakes and three gooey layer cakes. Now the attic -- look at that -- glasses, jewelry, tall top hat. And two trunks with masks and plumes -- just the things for great costumes! Meantime, Farmer Mack and Bess came back in for lunch and rest. Just imagine their surprise when the kitchen met their eyes. Their fine bed looked like a sack. Their whole house was out of whack. Mack and Bess climbed up the stairs shouting like ten angry bears. As their shouts turned to a roar, pigs stood trembling at the door. Out they raced and what a sight! Mack and Bess jumped back in fright. Three strange creatures rushed away. No one could have made them stay. Quickly Farmer Mack and Bess ran outside but could not guess Who it was they had to blame. Everything seemed just the same. In their pigpen nice and wide, pigs were resting side by side. Though it had been fun to roam, it was good to be back home. Sonnets from the Portuguese XXV Elizabeth Barrett Browning read by daria A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace Were changed to long despairs, till God's own grace Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring And let it drop adown thy calmly great Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing Which its own nature does precipitate, While thine doth close above it, mediating Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate. Sonnets from the Portuguese XIV Elizabeth Barrett Browning read by daria IF thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love’s sake only. Do not say “I love her for her smile—her look—her way Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day”— For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,— A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love’s sake, that evermore Thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity. Her Voice Oscar Wilde read by daria The wild bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing, Now in a lily-cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, In his wandering; Sit closer love: it was here I trow I made that vow, Swore that two lives should be like one As long as the sea-gull loved the sea, As long as the sunflower sought the sun,-- It shall be, I said, for eternity 'Twixt you and me! Dear friend, those times are over and done; Love's web is spun. Look upward where the poplar trees Sway and sway in the summer air, Here in the valley never a breeze Scatters the thistledown, but there Great winds blow fair From the mighty murmuring mystical seas, And the wave-lashed leas. Look upward where the white gull screams, What does it see that we do not see? Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams On some outward voyaging argosy,-- Ah! can it be We have lived our lives in a land of dreams! How sad it seems. Sweet, there is nothing left to say But this, that love is never lost, Keen winter stabs the breasts of May Whose crimson roses burst his frost, Ships tempest-tossed Will find a harbour in some bay, And so we may. And there is nothing left to do But to kiss once again, and part, Nay, there is nothing we should rue, I have my beauty,--you your Art, Nay, do not start, One world was not enough for two Like me and you. How Do I Love Thee? Elizabeth Barrett Browning read by daria How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love with a passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. I like my body e.e. cummings read by daria I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite a new thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss, i like kissing this and that of you, i like,, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs, and possibly i like the thrill of under me you quite so new Love is enough William Morris read by daria LOVE is enough: though the World be a-waning, And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass'd over, Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter; The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover. A Slice of Wedding Cake by Robert Graves Read by daria Why have such scores of lovely, gifted girls Married impossible men? Simple self-sacrifice may be ruled out, And missionary endeavor, nine times out of ten. Repeat 'impossible men': not merely rustic, Foul-tempered or depraved (Dramatic foils chosen to show the world How well women behave, and always have behaved). Impossible men: idle, illiterate, Self-pitying, dirty, sly, For whose appearance even in City parks Excuses must be made to casual passers-by. Has God's supply of tolerable husbands Fallen, in fact, so low? Or do I always over-value woman At the expense of man? Do I? It might be so.