1. From Renaissance to Rap By Allison Parker, MFA Southeastern Community College

2. Shakespeare (1564-1616) Sonnet 29 When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least: Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee,--and then my state (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings'.

3. Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672) To my Dear and Loving Husband If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee. If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you can. I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence. Thy love is such I can no way repay. The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever That when we live no more, we may live ever.

4. Robert Burns (1759-1796) 0, my love is like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June. 0, my love is like a melody, that's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair thou art, my bonnie lass, so deep in love am I, And I will love thee still, my dear, till a' the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, and the rocks melt wi' the sun! And I will love thee still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run. And fare the weel, my only love! And fare the well awhile! And I will come again, my love. Tho it were ten thousand mile!

5. Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) #536 The heart asks Pleasure—first And then—Excuse from Pain— And then—those little Anodynes That deaden suffering— And then—to go to sleep— And then—if it should be The will of its Inquisition The privilege to die—

6. E.E. Cummings (1894-1962) yes is a pleasant country: if's wintry (my lovely) let's open the year both is the very weather (not either) my treasure, when violets appear love is a deeper season than reason; my sweet one (and april's where we're)

7. Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) Lovely Love Let it be alleys. Let it be a hall Whose janitor javelins epithet and thought To cheapen hyacinth darkness that we sought And played we found, rot, make the petals fall. Let it be stairways, and splintery box Where you have thrown me, scraped me with your kiss, Have honed me, have released me after this Cavern kindness, smiled away our shocks. This is the birthright of our lovely love. In swaddling clothes. Not like that Other one. Nor lit by any fondling star above. Nor found by any wise men, either. Run. People are coming. They must not ca1ch us here Definitionless in this strict atmosphere.

8. Tupac Shakur (1971-1996) “The Rose That Grew From Concrete”

9. You (19?? - ????) Expository writing, professional writing, literature, and more! All transfer, most count towards AA Take college classes while attending H.S. Happy Writing, Juniors!