Your favorite poem and why

[John Cole]

George Herbert's wonderful sonnet:

The Answer

My comforts drop and melt away like snow:
I shake my head, and all the thoughts and ends,
Which my fierce youth did bandie, fall and flow
Like leaves about me: or like summer friends,
Flyes of estates and sunne-shine. But to all,
Who think me eager, hot, and undertaking,
But in my prosecutions slack and small;
As a young exhalation, newly waking,
Scorns his first bed of dirt, and means the sky;
But cooling by the way, grows pursie and slow,
And setling to a cloud, doth live and die
In that dark state of tears: to all, that so
Show me, and set me, I have one reply,
Which they that know the rest, know more then I.

It's the poem of an older man who hasn't forgotten the convictions of his youth. Note how perfectly Herbert uses the three run on lines in the poems (they're the lines without punctuation at the end), pay attention to its lovely rhythm, and feel the force of the final couplet. A perfectly realized sonnet, I think.

[maltaille]

Once I would have started this by quoting "It is an ancient Mariner, and he stoppeth one of three" but times have changed, and I with them. Instead, perhaps the least-appreciated Pulitzer prize winner last century: Edna St Vincent Millay.

Despite being the first woman to win the Pulitzer for poetry, and being celebrated (perhaps notorious is a better word - having an open marriage, being publicly bisexual, feminist, pro-America leading up to WWII, and generally scornful of public norms did nothing for her career) in her day, she is almost unknown now.

I have trouble picking one, and some are short, so let me quote a couple from A Few Figs from Thistles:

FIRST FIG
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!

SECOND FIG
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

THURSDAY
And if I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday--
So much is true.

And why you come complaining
Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what
Is that to me?

Sonnet III
Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow!
Faithless am I save to love's self alone.
Were you not lovely I would leave you now:
After the feet of beauty fly my own.
Were you not still my hunger's rarest food,
And water ever to my wildest thirst,
I would desert you--think not but I would!--
And seek another as I sought you first.
But you are mobile as the veering air,
And all your charms more changeful than the tide,
Wherefore to be inconstant is no care:
I have but to continue at your side.
So wanton, light and false, my love, are you,
I am most faithless when I most am true.

[Blarg]

Being "pro-America" made her less than popular? Pre WW2? OK

[diebitter]

Also, I find 'If' by Kipling more inspirational than a dozen bibles.


IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

[maltaille]

[ QUOTE ]
Being "pro-America" made her less than popular? Pre WW2? OK

[/ QUOTE ]

From wikipedia:
Her reputation was damaged by poetry she wrote in support of the Allied war effort during World War II. Merle Rubin noted: "She seems to have caught more flak from the literary critics for supporting democracy than Ezra Pound did for championing fascism."

Without knowing exactly why, I would guess it has something to do with many of the cultural concepts popular at the time, such as eugenics and "Europe's war," being things she vehemently, and publicly, opposed. While "pro-America" was a quote, I suspect it was meant in a similar way to people who suggest that the current US regime is anti-American - it all depends on what your idea of things American is. It might be more accurate to describe her as pro-democracy, pro-global citizenship, pro opposing the ideals that are (and were then) popularly associated with fascism, and in the specifics of the time, pro joining the war. Not a popular viewpoint.

[Blarg]

I could see how being pro-interventionist could irritate a lot of people. We were pretty sick of Europe's constant costly wars and it seemed like we had only just finished one before they were starting to screw up all over again. I confess complete ignorance regarding this lady's life, even to the point of not knowing whether she was American or not.