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A Valentine
Lewis Carroll
librivox; audiobooks; poetry; humor; satire
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- 01 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by ALG
sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away. And cannot pleasures, while they last, be actual unless, when passed, they leave us shuddering and aghast with anguish smarting? And cannot friends be firm and firm in their love, and not be in love with the other? And must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all, trifling, I grant, it is, and small, I have of gladness, and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness? And think you that I should be dumb, unfooled, deloram, omnium, accepting when you choose to come and share your happiness with me?
And think you that I should be dumb, unfooled, deloram, omnium, accepting when you choose to come and share my happiness with me? At other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, who proved his friendship true and deep, by day a lonely shadow creep, at night-time languish, oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but, wiser wooer, he spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her. And if the verse flow free and fast, till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine at last the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February.
Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow.
- 02 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by CEM
And cannot pleasures, while they last, be actual, unless, when past, they leave us shuddering and aghast, with anguish smarting? And cannot friends be firm and fast, and yet bare parting? And must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all, trifling I grant it is and small, I have of gladness and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness?
And think you that I should be dumb and full delorum omnium, accepting when you choose to come and share my dinner, at other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Would he then only live to weep, who'd prove his friendship true and deep, by day a lonely shadow creep, at night-time languish, oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days, his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and
wild amaze, but wiser wooer, he spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her. If the verse flow free and fast, till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine at last the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February. Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting
sorrow. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
- 03 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by CCS
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Claudia Salto, Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away, And cannot pleasures while they last be actual, Unless, when past, they leave us shuddering and aghast with anguish smarting, And cannot friends be firm and fast and yet bare parting?
And must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all? Trifling I grant it is and small, I have of gladness, And lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness, And think you that I should be dumb and full dolorum omnium, Excepting when you choose to come and share my dinner,
And other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, Who prove his friendship true and deep, By day a lonely shadow creep, at night-time languish, Oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze,
Sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but, wiser, wooer, He spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her, And if the verse flow free and fast till even the poet is aghast, A touching valentine at last the post shall carry, When thirteen days are gone and past of February.
Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet, In desert waste or crowded street, Perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
- 04 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by CMP
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll Read for LibriVox.org by Capricia Page Sent to a friend who complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away. And cannot pleasures, while they last, be actual unless, when past, they leave us shuddering
and aghast with anguish smarting, and cannot friends be firm and fast and yet bear parting. And must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all, trifling I grant it isn't small, I have of gladness, and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness, and think that you and I should be dumb and full of delorum omnium, except when you choose to come and share my dinner.
At other times be sour and glum and daily thinner. Must he then only live to weep, who'd prove his friendship true and deep, by day a lonely shadow creep, at night time languish, oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish. The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and wild amaze but wiser wooer, he spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her.
And if the verse flow free and fast, till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine at last, the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February. Farewell dear friend, and when we meet, in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow. I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow.
- 05 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by HBM
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll. Read for LibriVox.org. By Holly McGuire. February the 11th, 2014. Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but
didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away. And cannot pleasures, while they last, be actual unless, when passed, they leave us shuddering and aghast, with anguish and smarting? And cannot friends be firm and fast and yet bare parting? And must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all trifling I grant, it
isn't small? I have a gladness, and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness? And thank you that I should be dumb and full delorium omnium, expecting when you choose to come and share my dinner, at other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, who'd prove his friendship true and deep?
By day a lonely shadow creep, at night-time languish, oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but wiser, wooer, he spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her. And if the verse flow free and fast, till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine
at last the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February. Farewell dear friend, and when we meet in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow. I trust to find your heart in the seat of wasting sorrow. End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
- 06 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by JBS
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Gemma Blath, sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away. And can our pleasures, while they last, be actual unless, when past, they leave us shuddering and aghast with anguish smarting?
And can our friends be firm and fast in yet their parting? And must I then, at friendship's call, come to resign the little all, trifling, I grant, at ease and small? I have of gladness and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness, and think you that I should be dumb and full of delorium omnium, accepting when you choose to come
and share my dinner? At other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, who prove his friendship, true and deep, by day a lonely shadow-grip? At night-dumb languish, oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish?
The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but wiles her wooer. He spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her. And if the verse, low, free and fast, till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine at last the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February.
Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet, in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow. End poem. This recording is in the public domain.
- 07 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by JCM
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Jesser Mills, Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, But didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away. And cannot pleasures, while they last, be actual, Unless, when past, they leave us shuddering and aghast,
With anguish smarting? And cannot friends be firm and fast, and yet bare parting? And must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all, Tri-fling I grant it is, and small, I have of gladness, And lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness?
And think you that I should be dumb and full delorum omnium, Excepting when you choose to come and share my dinner? Let other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, Who'd prove his friendship true and deep? By day a lonely shadow creep, at night-time languish,
Oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, Sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but wiser wooer, He spends the time in writing lairs, and posts them to her, And if the verse flow free and fast, till even the poet is aghast,
A touching valentine at last the post shall carry, When thirteen days are gone and past of February. Farewell dear friend, and when we meet, in desert waste or crowded street, Perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps to-morrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow.
- 08 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by JK
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll, read for LibriVox.org by Josh Kirsch. Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away. And cannot pleasures while they last be actual unless, when past, they leave us shuddering and aghast with anguish smarting?
And cannot friends be firm and fast and yet bear parting? And must I then at friendship's call calmly resign the little all trifling I grant it is and small I have of gladness, and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness? And think you that I should be dumb and fool de l'orum ominum, accepting when you choose to come and share my dinner?
And other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep who'd prove his friendship true and deep by day a lonely shadow creep at night-time languish oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but wiser wooer he spends the time in writing lays and posts them to her.
And if the verse flow free and fast, till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine at last the post shall carry when thirteen days are gone and past are February. Farewell dear friend, and when we meet in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow.
End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
- 09 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by JN
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll Read for LiebeWuchs.org by Jule Niedermeyer Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away, and cannot pleasures while they last be actual unless, when passed,
they leave us shuddering and aghast with anguish smarting, and cannot friends be firm and fast and yet bare-parting, and must I then, at friendship's call, calmly resign the little all trifling I grant it is and small I have of gladness, and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness,
and think you that I should be dumb and fool the lorem omnium, accepting when you choose to come and share my dinner, at other times be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, who'd prove his friendship true and deep, by day a lonely shadow creep at night-time languish,
oft racing in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sings not in grief and wild amaze, but, wise a wooer, he spends the time in writing lace and posts them to her. And if the verse flow free and fast, till even the period is aghast,
a touching valentine at last the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February. Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet, in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps tomorrow, I'll trust to find your heart the seed of wasting sorrow.
End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
- 10 - A Valentine (Sent to a friend..) - Read by LLW
A Valentine by Lewis Carroll Read for LibriVox.org by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away, and cannot pleasures while they last be actual unless, when past, they leave us shuddering and aghast with anguish smarting, and cannot friends be firm and fast, and yet bare parting, and must I then, at friendship's call, calmly
resign the little all, trifling I grant yet is, and small, I have of gladness, and lend my being to the thrall of gloom and sadness, and think you that I should be dumb and full and dolarum omnium, excepting when you choose to come and share my dinner? At other times, be sour and glum and daily thinner? Must he then only live to weep, who'd prove his friendship true and deep?
By day a lonely shadow creep, at night-time languish, oft raising in his broken sleep the moan of anguish? The lover, if for certain days his fair one be denied his gaze, sinks not in grief and wild amaze, but wiser a wooer, he spends the time in writing lays, and posts them to her, and if the verse flow free and fast till even the poet is aghast, a touching valentine
at last the post shall carry, when thirteen days are gone and past of February. Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet in desert waste or crowded street, perhaps before this week shall fleet, perhaps to-morrow, I trust to find your heart the seat of wasting sorrow. And the poem this recording is in the public domain.
