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page04

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Directed by Kaz Matamura. Performed by Michele Tannen. Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king;. Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,. Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,. Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The palm and may make country houses gay,. Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,. And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,. Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,.

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page08

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Directed by Kaz Matamura. Performed by Greg Haskins. Page 8: DOVER BEACH. The sea is calm tonight,. The tide is full, the moon lies fair. Upon the straits; — on the French coast the light. Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,. Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long line of spray. Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,. You hear the grating roar. At their return, up the high strand,.

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page40

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Directed by Kaz Matamura. Performed by David Eadington. Page 40: BONNY BARBARA ALLAN. In Scarlet town, where I was born,. There was a fair maid dwelling,. Made every youth cry. Her name was Barbara Allan. All in the merry month of May,. When green buds they were swelling,. Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay,. For love of Barbara Allan. O slowly, slowly rose she up,. To the place where he was lying,. And when she drew the curtain by,. Young man, I think you're dying.

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page76

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. WHERE did you come from, baby dear? Out of the everywhere into the here. Where did you get those eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? Some of the starry spikes left in. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here. What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand strok’d it as I went by. What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? I saw something better than any one knows.

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page30

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Page 30: TO THE EVENING STAR. Thou fair-haired angel of the evening,. Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light. Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown. Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on our loves, and, while thou drawest the. Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew. On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes. In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on. The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,. Written by William Blake (1757-1827).

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page44

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Page 44: HUMPTY DUMPTY'S SONG. In winter, when the fields are white,. I sing this song for your delight. In Spring, when woods are getting green,. I'll try and tell you what I mean. In Summer, when the days are long,. Perhaps you'll understand the song. In Autumn, when the leaves are brown,. Take pen and ink, and write it down. I sent a message to the fish:. I told them This is what I wish. The little fishes of the sea,. They sent an answer back to me. It will be better to obey.

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page20

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Directed by Kaz Matamura. Performed by Michele Tannen. Page 20: A BIRTHDAY. My heart is like a singing bird. Whose nest is in a watered shoot;. My heart is like an apple-tree. Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;. My heart is like a rainbow shell. That paddles in a halcyon sea;. My heart is gladder than all these. Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of silk and down;. Hang it with vair and purple dyes:. Carve it in doves and pomegranates,.

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page78

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. Page 78: THE COW. The friendly cow all red and white,. I love with all my heart:. She gives me cream with all her might,. To eat with apple-tart. She wanders lowing here and there,. And yet she cannot stray,. All in the pleasant open air,. The pleasant light of day;. And blown by all the winds that pass. And wet with all the showers,. She walks among the meadow grass. And eats the meadow flowers. Written by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894).

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pg16

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Welcome to the EPOEM books. He clasps the crag with crooked hands:. Close to the sun in lonely lands,. Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;. He watches from his mountain walls,. And like a thunderbolt he falls. Written by Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892).