Tag: Poetry
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A Wish
A Wish Samuel Rogers Mine be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive’s hum shall sooth my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal,…
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The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna
Making this a regular Monday thing The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna Charles Wolfe Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O’er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of…
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The Moon
more selections from the Oxford Book of English Verse The Moon Percy Bysshe Shelley I AND, like a dying lady lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The mood arose up in the murky east, A…
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Dirge in the Woods
Continuing the recent poetry posting. Dirge in the Woods George Meredith A wind sways the pines, And below Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines Of the roots here and there. The pine-tree drops its dead; They are quiet, as under the sea.…
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Unwelcome
Another poem from the Oxford Book, Unwelcome by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (great grandniece of the more famous poet). We were young, we were merry, we were very very wise, And the door stood open at our feast, When there passed us a woman with the West in her eyes, And a man with his back…
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St. Agnes’ Eve
I’ve been (very) slowly making my way through an old edition of The Oxford Book of English Verse, inspired by the fact that Patrick Fermor carried a copy with him on his journey through Europe. Since I’ve stalled a bit on posts lately, I thought I’d highlight some of the poems that have caught my eye on…
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Thoughts (Borrowed) While Overlooking a Mountain Valley in Peru
The Infinite Always dear to me was this lonely hill, And this hedgerow, which from many sides Bars the gaze from the utmost horizon. But sitting and looking out, endless Spaces beyond that hedge, and superhuman Silences, and profoundest quietude, I in my mind forge for myself: where the heart Is all but terrified. And as I hear the wind rustle…
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The Listeners, Walter de la Mare
‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses Of the forest’s ferny floor: And a bird flew up out of the turret, Above the Traveller’s head: And he smote upon the door again a second time; ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.…
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Annunciation
The dove descending breaks the air With flame of incandescent terror Of which the tongues declare The one discharged from sin and error. The only hope, or else despair Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre – To be redeemed from fire by fire. Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar…
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Never Forget that the World is Beautiful
You, and I, should read more poetry. Your thoughts don’t have words every day They come a single time Like signal esoteric sips Of the communion Wine Which while you taste so native seems So easy so to be You cannot comprehend its price Nor its infrequency Emily Dickinson, 1452 Never forget that the world…
Dan Yingst 