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Book Review: Wordsworth and Coleridge Lyrical Ballads 1798
Title: Wordsworth and Coleridge Lyrical Ballads 1798 Authors: William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge Editor: W. J. B. Owen, Professor of English McMaster University Published: Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1969. Pages-180. This was the first collection of poems that Wordsworth and Coleridge put out. It was released in 1798. I got this book from my local library because I am interested in finding out more about the Lake poets. Therefore, this was not a random pick out of the hat. I have some meaning for reading and discussing this work. This essay will cover a brief biographical sketch of the two poets and the editor, and next a discussion of the editor’s portion, and then finally my impression of the poems contained therein. William Wordsworth was born April 7, 1770 in Cockermouth, Cumberland, England and died April 23, 1850 in Grasmere, Westmorland, England.[1] His mother died when he was eight, and his father five years later.[2] Before the age of thirteen , his father had him memorize “large portions” of Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton.[3] He attended St. John’s College, Cambridge, in which he exhibited mediocre academic progress, and instead of striving for honors and fellowship, he settled with a pass…
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My Poetry: Routine Surgery
Routine Surgery She was scared as it was time to leave The doctor and nurses were ready It’s not as bad as it used to be He’s the head of cardiology She was scared as they go to leave The family was busy praying They wave “See you soon!” with worried smiles As she goes away to surgery She was scared as she started to go under The surgeon gets to work The hours go by very, very slowly And somethings not quite right They were scared waiting in that tiny room The doctor explained with consolation Time is stopped, and all stands still And they know she’s gone away.
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My Poetry: An Old Woman’s Smile
An Old Woman’s Smile Dreaming dreams of yesterday as sunlight warms her face. Her eyes are closed as she sits still with a cover to embrace. The door is opened suddenly, and a familiar voice cries out, “Hello Grandma! How have you been? What a room! Are they taking good care of you? Do you get enough to eat?” She smiles and tells him she is so happy to see him. He brought a potted plant and puts it on her windowsill, And looking round he plops himself down upon the edge of her bed. “This seems like such a nice place, the staff they are so friendly, They say you’ll have a lot to do with bingo and with cards, And if your feeling up to it they can take you round the yard.” She smiles again and takes it in, and enjoys the moment spent. She asks him how he’s doing, his wife and little ones, “Oh, my job keeps me busy, the wife has hers as well, And the little ones, are all grown up and making plans for college.” She smiles again and thinks about how fast the time did go. He looks around the one…
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My Poetry: I Have a Book I Carry
I Have a Book I Carry I have a book I carry, much older than myself. I always take it with me, wherever I may go. I’d never dream to leave it, just sitting on a shelf. It is just a little thing, of poetry and prose. Whenever I go out to eat, I always pull it out, And read aloud a page or two, alone or with a guest. They never seem to disagree, or throw a temper fit. But rather marvel at the thought, at what I might present. There is so much to tell you, about my little book, The lessons that it taught me, are many and sublime. I wish to share these treasures, with everyone I meet, So they may appreciate, the wisdom held inside. I have memories of reading, to loved ones who are gone, The lines that made them laugh and smile, and sometimes shed a tear, Will stay with me through all my life, as treasures held most dear, I would not trade this little book, for anything I fear. And this book is filled with more, of that which I adore, Little pieces of the truth, to help me understand; I…
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Book Review: “Christopher North” A Memoir of John Wilson
Title: “Christopher North” A Memoir of John Wilson, Late Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, compiled from family papers and other sources by his daughter, Mrs. Gordon Author: Mrs. Gordon, Mary Wilson Gordon Published: New York: W. J. Widdleton, 1863. 484-pages. This book is a biography about a Man of Letters, John Wilson. The term is not really used much anymore. My Encyclopedia Britannica only has a few lines dedicated to him. Wikipedia has just a few paragraphs. However, after reading this book, and thinking about the man, his career, his family, and friends, perhaps it is not Wilson that has lost something by being lost to obscurity, but rather, our loss, a sign of our own decadence and self-centeredness. We, being society in general, tend to think and act like we are the end in itself. I believe we have a lot to learn by studying history and people of importance. How were they able to find and acknowledge the truths they encountered? What were the reasons why they became who they were? Who did they influence? What does this tell us about the human condition in general? In particular? How can we learn from past…
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Selected Poems of Matthew Arnold
This is a selection of poems from the English poet Matthew Arnold (1822-88). This is my first time reading a collection of Arnold’s work. The book breaks up the poems into four sections: early poems, narrative poems, sonnets, and lyric and elegiac poems. I believe when you read a person’s literary works, you get an idea of who the writer is. This is especially true of poetry. I get the sense of longing for what might have been that was not: a traveler looking for answers. His Scholar-Gipsy epitomizes this feeling I get of who Arnold was. Reading the collection, I get the sense that he was a determined and strongly dedicated man. He believed in lofty ideals and hoped fervently for justice to prevail. However, his Idealism was tempered with the reality of how things usually turn out. Many of his writings deal with travelers and customs. The characters experience a crisis of choice that must be made and it does not end in a fairy tale ending, but rather a realistic view. Of his early poems, I particularly enjoyed Stagirius . The narrative poem Sohrab and Rustum tells a father and son story of how fate can be…
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Writing poetry on demand
Here I sit, pen in hand Writing poetry on demand Some is good, some is bad Depending on what drink I’ve had Root beer, tea, or ginger ale, Each of these makes it fizzy Others make it sound so stale Weaving words makes me dizzy Rhyming is a lot of work Lists of words in your head Worth it though for a smirk When the poem at last is read. April is National Poetry Month. If you’d like to read poems by other budding poets, honor the folks at NaPoWriMo.net with a visit, and peruse their participants’ sites.
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The Right to Say It
Desolation is all around No consolation to be found An empty desk before my eyes “Papa est parti.” a young girl cries Men who twist a Prophets words Turn sublime into absurd A soulful journey is undertaken My faith in man to reawaken A million candles do I see Lit in honour of Charlie Whether or not I agree with what you say, you still have the right to say it.
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Thinking summer, feeling winter
The skies are cold and gray, The snow refuses to fall I miss the days of May And the sound of the red bird’s call Winter is making me yawn I long for springtime heat Walking across the lawn With flowers at my feet A gentle wind will blow While I’m relaxing in the sun But now I’ve got to go My toes are feeling numb
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Someone Else’s Poem
If I were put on the spot and had to recite someone else’s poem, the only one that comes to mind quickly is one I read in a book from the 1800’s. I don’t know the name of the author. The poem can speak for itself. Sin is a beast of such hideous mien As to be hated needs but to be seen. But seen too oft familiar its face We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
