Poetry

Following the suggestion in the 'passages' thread, I thought I would start one for favoured passages from poems that had stuck with us ...

I'll begin with one I've always loved, I came across it for the first time in a Sheri S Tepper book, going back to read the full poem afterwards.

"From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea."

From Swinburne's The Garden of Prosperine

Oh yeah excelent

Here are two sonnets that go back a ways; both are by Sir Philip Sidney.

Thou blind man's mark, thou fool's self-chosen snare,
Fond fancy's scum, and dregs of scattered thought,
Band of all evils, cradle of causeless care;
Thou web of will, whose end is never wrought;
Desire, desire! I have too dearly bought,
With price of mangled mind, thy worthless ware;
Too long, too long, asleep thou hast me brought,
Who should my mind to higher things prepare.
But yet in vain thou hast my ruin sought;
In vain thou madst me to vain things aspire;
In vain thou kindlest all thy smoky fire;
For virtue hath this better lesson taught -
Within myself to seek my only hire,
Desiring nought but how to kill desire.

And this one, with a very different tone:

Sonnet 31, from Astrophel and Stella

With how sad steps, Oh Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What, may it be that even in that heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace,
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, Oh Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call 'virtue' there - ungratefulness?

It has been many years since I first encountered these poems back in college. I've never forgotten them.

BTW, SemilahMeriwae, I'd meant to thank you for starting this thread when I posted the above; I got so carried away once I had looked up the Sidney poems that I forgot:)

Thank you, also, for the Swinburne. I don't think I've read Swinburne before, so that'll have to change now. I'll have to see if I have the poem you quoted, and start with that.

I'm looking forward to reading more memorable passages and poems on this thread - hope there are more postings soon!

Semilah, Your post sent me looking for the Swinburne. I have read one or two by him, but will definitely be looking for more. thanks!

Maggie, I'm unfamiliar with Sidney, as well. I'm not sure how I've missed so many great poets. I thought I was reading almost everyone! lol. Thanks for these. I really like them.

I want to think a bit about my choice, so will post it a little later. (It's hard to decide!) Thanks to both of you for getting this thread going. I'm looking forward to more, too.

There have been so many that I've loved. I may be back often. I will start with this one, from "You and Art" by William Stafford:

And you discover where music begins
before it makes any sound,
far in the mountains where canyons go
still as the always-falling, ever-new flakes of snow.

Decided to add the touchstone :)

"Back of Chicago the open fields - were you ever there?
Trains coming toward you out of the West -
Streaks of light on the long, gray plains? Many a song -
Aching to sing."

from : Evening Song
by Sherwood Anderson

"Now as the train bears west,
Its rhythm rocks the earth,
And from my Pullman berth
I stare into the night
While others take their rest."
....

"We rush into a rain
That rattles double glass.
Wheels shake the roadbed stone,
The pistons jerk and shove,
I stay up half the night
To see the land I love."

from: Night Journey
by Theodore Roethke
http://gawow.com/roethke/poems/32.html

One more, before I go:
The ending to "As I Walked Out One Evening" by W. H. Auden

"It was late, late in the evening,

The lovers they were gone;

The clocks had ceased their chiming,

And the deep river ran on."

Eugene, that's one of my favorite Auden's. And I liked the other one very much, too. I have this thing for trains. Thanks for the link.

The Orbison Consolations by Kit Wright:

_Only_ the lonely
Know the way you feel tonight?
Singly the tingly
Conceive your plight,
But _doubly_ the bubbly
Fly your kite...
And lastly the ghastly
Know the way you feel tonight.

"I am bound, I am bound, for a distant shore,
By a lonely isle, by a far Azore,
There it is, there it is, the treasure I seek,
On the barren sands of a desolate creek." ~ Henry David Thoreau

Eugene, I am now the proud owner of Theodore Roethke, Selected Poems, edited by Edward Hirsch. (Night Journey, page 6.) I'm looking foward to getting lost in it. Thanks!

Oh, you should have asked. I have two copies of the original 1965 Collected Poems, hardcover edition with jackets. I would have sent you a copy for a reasonable price. Why is it I feel the need to own additional copies of some of the books I love? Enjoy his poems. They are wonderful.

My grandfather owned the main greenhouse in our small Wisconsin town, so like Roethke, his poems have significant meaning for me. Grandpa died when I was but 12 years old. From Wikipedia: "Roethke was born in Saginaw, Michigan. His father, Otto Roethke, was a German immigrant, who owned a large local greenhouse. Much of Theodore's childhood was spent in this greenhouse, as reflected by the use of natural imagery in his poetry. The poet's adolescent years were jarred, however, by the death of his father from cancer in 1923, a loss that would powerfully shape Roethke's psychic and creative lives."

Because you never know when you will spill coffee all over one of them and there you'll be without a spare. I never drink coffee while I read poetry. :) That's a very kind offer, but I could never in good conscience take anyone's spare copy of something they love. This one will do for me for now. If I decide I can't live without all his others, I will go seeking. I love looking for things.

His bio sounds interesting, but we have all been faced with crossroads in our lives. It's what you do with them that counts, isn't it? Some of us just take the scenic route. Others get out and look around before moving on. He must have been the latter.

Picked this one up this morning and loved it all over again:

American Gothic
(To Satch)

Sometimes I feel like I will never stop
Just go on forever
Til one fine mornin'
I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handfulla stars
Swing out my long lean leg
And whip three hot strikes burnin' down the heavens
And look over at God and say
How about that!

- Paul Vesey

And speaking of Auden, this is one of my old favorites:

Some thirty inches from my nose
The frontier of my Person goes,
And all the untilled air between
Is private pagus or demesne.
Stranger, unless with bedroom eyes
I beckon you to fraternize,
Beware of rudely crossing it:
I have no gun, but I can spit.

May a good omen be stode upon you in the form of a great bird:

At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came ;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit ;
The helmsman steered us through !

And a good south wind sprung up behind ;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo !

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine ;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'