100 Poems Is Not Enough:Poems of Praise to God

The poems of John Keats

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But I think I see someone else there is a lady, whose name is Afterwards she is sitting beside young death, is slender; likes flowers. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. And eyes big love-crumbs, and possibly i like the thrill of under me you so quite new 16 15 little tree little silent Christmas tree you are so little you are more like a flower who found you in the green forest and were you very sorry to come away? And there're a hun-dred-mil-lion-oth-ers, like all of you successfully if delicately gelded or spaded gentlemen and ladies pretty litdeliverpill- hearted-NujoIneeding-There's-A-Reason americans who tensetendoned and with upward vacant eyes, painfully perpetually crouched, quivering, upon the sternly allotted sandpile how silently emit a tiny violetflavoured nuisance: O thos cook cb- son O to be a metope now that triglyph's here 22 a man who had fallen among thieves lay by the roadside on his back dressed in fifteenthrate ideas wearing a round jeer for a hat fate per a somewhat more than less emancipated evening had in return for consciousness endowed him with a changeless grin whereon a dozen staunch and leal citizens did graze at pause then fired by hypercivic zeal sought newer pastures or because swaddled with a frozen brook of pinkest vomit out of eyes which noticed nobody he looked as if he did not care to rise one hand did nothing on the vest its wideflung friend clenched weakly dirt while the mute trouserfly confessed a button solemnly inert.

Brushing from whom the stiffened puke i put him all into my arms and staggered banged with terror through a million billion trillion stars 28 23 voices to voices, lip to lip i swear to noone everyone constitutes undying; or whatever this and that petal confutes. While you and i have lips and voices which are for kissing and to sing with who cares if some oneeyed son of a bitch invents an instrument to measure Spring with?

Don't cry the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter which says we are for each other: I will not eat" 37 our president,being of which assertions duly notified threw the yellowsonofabitch into a dungeon,where he died Christ of His mercy infinite i pray to see;and Olaf,too preponderatingly because unless statistics lie he was more brave than me: I have never loved you dear as now i love behold this fool who,in the month of June, having of certain stars and planets heard, rose very slowly in a tight balloon until the smallening world became absurd; him did an archer spy whose aim had erred never and by that little trick or this he shot the aeronaut down,into the abyss and wonderfully i fell through the green groove of twilight,striking into many a piece.

I have never loved you dear as now i love god's terrible face,brighter than a spoon, collects the image of one fatal word; so that my life which liked the sun and the moon resembles something that has not occurred: I have never loved you dear as now i love. Hell by most humble me which shall increase open thy fire! Who wields a poem huger than the grave?

King Christ,this world is all aleak; and lifepreservers there are none: Love having found wound up such pretty toys as themselves could not know: For if you're young,whatever life you wear it will become you;and if you are glad whatever's living will yourself become. In the first stanza he describes how he would pay court to her if he were to be unencumbered by the constraints of a normal lifespan. He could spend centuries admiring each part of her body and her resistance to his advances i.

In the second stanza, he laments how short human life is. Once life is over, the speaker contends, the opportunity to enjoy one another is gone, as no one embraces in death. In the last stanza, the speaker urges the woman to requite his efforts, and argues that in loving one another with passion they will both make the most of the brief time they have to live.

The poem is written in iambic tetrameter and rhymes in couplets. The first verse stanza "Had we The logical form of the poem runs: Until recently, "To His Coy Mistress" had been received by many as a poem that follows the traditional conventions of carpe diem love poetry. Some modern critics, however, argue Marvell's use of complex and ambiguous metaphors challenges the perceived notions of the poem. It as well raises suspicion of irony and deludes the reader with its inappropriate and jarring imagery.

Some critics believe the poem is an ironic statement on sexual seduction. They reject the idea that Marvell's poem carries a serious and solemn mood. In the second part of the poem, there is a sudden transition into imagery that involves graves, marble vaults and worms. The narrator's use of such metaphors to depict a realistic and harsh death that awaits the lovers seems to be a way of shocking the lady into submission. As well, critics note the sense of urgency of the narrator in the poem's third section, especially the alarming comparison of the lovers to "amorous birds of prey".

At least two poets have taken up the challenge of responding to Marvell's poem in the character of the lady so addressed. Annie Finch 's "Coy Mistress" [4] suggests that poetry is a more fitting use of their time than lovemaking, while A. Hope 's "His Coy Mistress to Mr. Marvell" turns down the offered seduction outright. Many authors have borrowed the phrase "World enough and time" from the poem's opening line to use in their book titles.

A Romantic Novel, about murder in earlyth-century Kentucky. With variations, it has also been used for books on the philosophy of physics World Enough and Space-Time: The Life of Andrew Marvell. The phrase is used as a title chapter in Andreas Wagner's pop science book on the origin of variation in organisms, "Arrival of the Fittest". To Some Ladies What though while the wonders of nature exploring,.

O come, dearest Emma! To George Felton Mathew Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,. Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs. Hadst thou liv'd in days of old Hadst thou liv'd in days of old,. I am as brisk I am as brisk. Give me women, wine, and snuff Give me women, wine and snuff. Specimen of an Induction to a Poem Lo! I must tell a tale of chivalry;. A Fragment Young Calidore is paddling o'er the lake;. To one who has been long in city pent To one who has been long in city pent,.

I could be content Happy is England! I could be content. To Charles Cowden Clarke Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning,. How many bards gild the lapses of time How many bards gild the lapses of time! Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there. To My Brothers Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals,. Addressed to Haydon Highmindedness, a jealousy for good,.

Addressed to the Same Great spirits now on earth are sojourning;. Nymph of the downward smile, and sidelong glance,. To Kosciusko Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone. Sleep and Poetry What is more gentle than a wind in summer? I stood tip-toe upon a little hill I stood tip-toe upon a little hill,. Written in Disgust of Vulgar Superstition The church bells toll a melancholy round,. On the Grasshopper and Cricket The poetry of earth is never dead. After dark vapours have opressed our plains After dark vapours have oppress'd our plains.

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God of the golden bow God of the golden bow,. This pleasant tale is like a little copse This pleasant tale is like a little copse. To Leigh Hunt, Esq. Glory and loveliness have passed away;. On Seeing the Elgin Marbles My spirit is too weak — mortality. On The Story of Rimini Who loves to peer up at the morning sun,.

On the sea It keeps eternal whisperings around. Unfelt, unheard, unseen Unfelt, unheard, unseen,. Hither, hither, love Hither, hither, love —. You say you love; but with a voice You say you love; but with a voice. The Gothic looks solemn The Gothic looks solemn,.

A Curse For A Nation - Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Think not of it, sweet one, so Think not of it, sweet one, so; —. Apollo to the Graces Apol. Which of the fairest three. O blush not so!

To His Coy Mistress

O blush not so O blush not so! Hence burgendy, claret, and port Hence burgundy, claret, and port,. God of the Meridian God of the meridian,. Lines on the Mermaid Tavern Souls of poets dead and gone,.

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Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb;. To the Nile Son of the old moon-mountains African!

Poetry's Place in the History of Banned Books | www.farmersmarketmusic.com

Spenser, a jealous honorer of thine Spenser! O thou whose face hath felt the winter's wind O thou whose face hath felt the winter's wind,. Extracts from an Opera O! O, I am frighten'd with most hateful thoughts Oh, I am frighten'd with most hateful thoughts! Song The stranger lighted from his steed,. O sleep a little while white pearl Asleep!

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