Brendan Beary -- Random Access Memory

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
As I was going to St. Ives --  
I wandered lonely as a cloud;
The mass of men lead lives.

I taste a liquor never brewed --
My little horse must think it queer;
We'll take a cup of kindness yet,
And shed a bitter tear.

From Clee to heaven the beacon burns,
And I on the opposite shore shall be,
When I consider how my light
Cremated Sam McGee.

Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
She walks in beauty like the night:
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone --
It gives a lovely light!

At some disputed barricade
I shot an arrow in the air,
And there lies guid Sir Patrick Spens,
Belied with false compare.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
When I am dead and over me?
Do not go gently into that;
Come live with me and be.

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she
Is too much with us late and soon;
I am a man more sinned against
Thanne longen folk to goon.

Would I were steadfast as thou art!
Not I am faithful to a vow --
The woods are lovely, dark and deep;
Touch not a single bough.

Sumer is icumen in!
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may;
Since there's no help, come let us kiss
The Mudville nine that day.

I do not think that I shall see
My lamp beside the golden door;
Shoot if you must this old gray head,
Or what's a heaven for?