I'm studying composition at uni, and one of the things we have to do is write a cabaret song. So far, I've been unable to find any poem that would be suitable. If anyone could help me with this, or even find a piece of prose that would work, I would be very grateful. I would prefer if the text was in the public domain so I don't have to go through all the trouble of getting permission to use it, but it doesn't have to be.
Thanks. :)

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What are your requirements? Length, rhyme, etc?

pam

It should be reasonably short- the song is to be about 2-3 minutes long. Rhyme, metre etc are not that important- I can fit the music around the words. It can't be something that has already been used as a cabaret song- the head of composition would kill me.

How about this one? I'm assuming a cabaret song should be about love. (or at least something Jessica Rabbit would sing)

pam

Dream-Pedlary (excerpt)
by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

1 If there were dreams to sell,
2 What would you buy?
3 Some cost a passing bell;
4 Some a light sigh,
5 That shakes from Life's fresh crown
6 Only a rose-leaf down.
7 If there were dreams to sell,
8 Merry and sad to tell,
9 And the crier rang the bell,
10 What would you buy?

11 A cottage lone and still,
12 With bowers nigh,
13 Shadowy, my woes to still,
14 Until I die.
15 Such pearl from Life's fresh crown
16 Fain would I shake me down.
17 Were dreams to have at will,
18 This would best heal my ill,
19 This would I buy.

Here's another one. Try going to the Classical Poet List and searching on 'love.'

pam

Sonnet: I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true
by Rupert Brooke


I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true.
Such long swift tides stir not a land-locked sea.
On gods or fools the high risk falls -- on you --
The clean clear bitter-sweet that's not for me.
Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist.
Love is flung Lucifer-like from Heaven to Hell.
But -- there are wanderers in the middle mist,
Who cry for shadows, clutch, and cannot tell
Whether they love at all, or, loving, whom:
An old song's lady, a fool in fancy dress,
Or phantoms, or their own face on the gloom;
For love of Love, or from heart's loneliness.
Pleasure's not theirs, nor pain. They doubt, and sigh,
And do not love at all. Of these am I.