PODCAST

The Poem Reader

Dominic Frisby

For lovers of language. Every week a new poem read aloud. www.thepoemreader.com

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1:23

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/29

I wandered lonely as a cloudThat 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 shineAnd twinkle on the milky way,They stretched in never-ending lineAlong the margin of a bay:Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.The waves beside them danced; but theyOut-did the sparkling waves in glee:A poet could not but be gay,In such

2:13

To Autumn

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/22

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimm'd their

1:02

Pleasant Sounds

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/17

The rustling of leaves under the feet in woods and under hedges;The crumpling of cat-ice and snow down wood-rides, narrow lanes and every street causeway;Rustling through a wood or rather rushing, while the wind halloos in the oak-toop like thunder;The rustle of birds' wings startled from their nests or flying unseen into the bushes;The whizzing of larger birds overhead in a wood, such as crows, puddocks, buzzards;The trample of robins and woodlarks on the brown leaves.

1:07

Sonnet 73 (‘That time of year thou mayst in me behold’)

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/15

That time of year thou mayst in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold,Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang.In me thou seest the twilight of such dayAs after sunset fadeth in the west,Which by and by black night doth take away,Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.In me thou seest the glowing of such fireThat on the ashes of his youth doth lie,As the death-bed whereon it must expire,Consum’d by that which it was

0:31

Fall, Leaves, Fall

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/10

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;Lengthen night and shorten day;Every leaf speaks bliss to meFluttering from the autumn tree.I shall smile when wreaths of snowBlossom where the rose should grow;I shall sing when night’s decayUshers in a drearier day. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.thepoemreader.com

0:25

Fire and Ice

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/08

Some say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I’ve tasted of desireI hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.thepoemreader.com

1:39

Holes

The Poem Reader ·

2022/10/01

When I was a kid I loved to dig holesThere's a part of me that must have been mole.Holes got bigger and deeper as I aged.My utensils went from spoon to spade.A small depression is the start of a hole,you dig on down with no particular goal.Come back tomorrow and dig some more,dig and dig till you can't dig no more.Sometimes a neighbor kid would join in the fun.The dirt would fly and imaginations would run.At the end of the day and all had gone home, it was still my holeI was all alone.I would cover

1:47

Digging

The Poem Reader ·

2022/09/24

Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look downTill his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where he was digging.The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft Against the inside knee was levered firmly.He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deepTo scatter new potatoes

1:06

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act II, Scene I

The Poem Reader ·

2022/09/17

A wood near Athens. A Fairy speaks. "How now, spirit? Whither wander you?" Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green: The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dew-drops here And hang a

1:23

When I Was Fair and Young

The Poem Reader ·

2022/09/10

When I was fair and young, then favor graced me.Of many was I sought their mistress for to be.But I did scorn them all and answered them therefore:Go, go, go, seek some other where; importune me no more.How many weeping eyes I made to pine in woe,How many sighing hearts I have not skill to show,But I the prouder grew and still this spake therefore:Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.Then spake fair Venus’ son, that proud victorious boy,Saying: You dainty dame, for that you be so

1:09

Elizabeth II

The Poem Reader ·

2022/09/09

In today’s correspondence a poetry book detailing the lives of British Queens— with a note enclosed and a question: what does it mean to be a Queen? I could reply and say— this precious stone set in a silver sea: a symbol, like a banner, for mens’ love. But these are not my words. I could reply and say— glorying in the glories of my people, sorrowing with the sorrows of the lowest. But these are not my words. I could declare— that each Queen is tissue paper thin, transluscent but combined, are

1:45

The Village Schoolmaster

The Poem Reader ·

2022/09/03

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the wayWith blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule,The village master taught his little school;A man severe he was, and stern to view,I knew him well, and every truant knew;Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to traceThe days disasters in his morning face;Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee,At all his jokes, for many a joke had he:Full well the busy whisper, circling round,Convey'd the dismal tidings when he

0:59

Jerusalem

The Poem Reader ·

2022/08/27

And did those feet in ancient timeWalk upon Englands mountains green:And was the holy Lamb of God,On Englands pleasant pastures seen!And did the Countenance Divine,Shine forth upon our clouded hills?And was Jerusalem builded here,Among these dark Satanic Mills?Bring me my Bow of burning gold:Bring me my arrows of desire:Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!Bring me my Chariot of fire!I will not cease from Mental Fight,Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand:Till we have built Jerusalem,In Englands green &

0:52

London

The Poem Reader ·

2022/08/20

I wander thro' each charter'd street,Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,And mark in every face I meetMarks of weakness, marks of woe.In every cry of every man,In every Infant's cry of fear,In every voice, in every ban,The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.How the Chimney-sweeper's cryEvery blackning Church appalls;And the hapless Soldier's sighRuns in blood down Palace walls.But most thro' midnight streets I hearHow the youthful Harlot's curseBlasts the new-born Infant's tear,And blights with

1:08

Indispensable Man

The Poem Reader ·

2022/08/13

Sometime when you’re feeling important;Sometime when your ego’s in bloomSometime when you take it for grantedYou’re the best qualified in the room,Sometime when you feel that your goingWould leave an unfillable hole,Just follow these simple instructionsAnd see how they humble your soul;Take a bucket and fill it with water,Put your hand in it up to the wrist,Pull it out and the hole that’s remainingIs a measure of how you’ll be missed.You can splash all you wish when you enter,You may stir up the

1:29

Do not go gentle into that good night

The Poem Reader ·

2022/08/06

Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Though wise men at their end know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning theyDo not go gentle into that good night.Good men, the last wave by, crying how brightTheir frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,Do not go

1:09

The Road Not Taken

The Poem Reader ·

2022/07/30

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo 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 thereHad worn them really about the same,And both that morning equally layIn leaves no step had trodden black.Oh, I kept the first for another day!Yet knowing how way leads on to way,I

3:00

Porphyria's Lover

The Poem Reader ·

2022/07/23

The rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake,It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break.When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm,And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm; Which done, she rose, and from her formWithdrew the dripping cloak and shawl, And laid her soiled gloves by, untiedHer hat and let the damp hair

2:07

The Charge of the Light Brigade

The Poem Reader ·

2022/07/16

IHalf a league, half a league,Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.“Forward, the Light Brigade!Charge for the guns!” he said.Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.II“Forward, the Light Brigade!”Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew Someone had blundered. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.IIICannon to right of them,Cannon to left of

2:55

A Subaltern's Love Song

The Poem Reader ·

2022/07/09

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,What strenuous singles we played after tea,We in the tournament - you against me!Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,The warm-handled racket is back in its press,But my shock-headed victor,

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