Off season Poetry appreciation.

[Dr. Voodoo Man]

Oh dear...............have I upset you again?

You claim to be a teacher, I could teach you a thing or two.
You've demonstrated an inability to learn from your mistakes, which is the height of stupidity.
I feel sorry for your students...................if you've actually got any.

Strawman got nought.

[mightyrooster]

I will be very kind to you.

There was a good lady named MR
Whom I think is an absolute star
she is a rare find
as she is always kind
I would never push her too far

Thanks Andy.

[zac]

Ozymandias

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

the sentiment is alright but ozymandias did have his time in the sun, and a lot of people don't get that chance so by one measure he's done alright but his obvious mistake was thinking that his time in the sun was eternal

[Paddo Colt 61]

Here is another from the romantic school. It's by one of your favourites MR - Coleridge. Again it is an illustration of the wonder of imagination as is the Ancient Mariner of your schooldays. The Limetree is a masterpiece of the genre.

The poem recounts a day when the writer was unable, his foot having been scalded with boiling milk, to take a group of friends on what we might call a bushwalk in the environs around his home. He is unable to go physically but his imagination follows them on the journey as he sits, alone, under the branches of the Lime Tree in his garden.

Nature was an enormous part of the Romantic movement because of its impact on the senses and, therefore, on the imagination and this poem reflects that role in its rich sensuality. There is wonderfully detailed sight and sound imagery as, in imagination, he accompanies them through every stage of their walk


This Lime-tree Bower my Prison


BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,

This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost

Beauties and feelings, such as would have been

Most sweet to my remembrance even when age

Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness! They, meanwhile,

Friends, whom I never more may meet again,

On springy heath, along the hill-top edge,

Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,

To that still roaring dell, of which I told;

The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep,

And only speckled by the mid-day sun;

Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock

Flings arching like a bridge;—that branchless ash,

Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves

Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,

Fann'd by the water-fall! and there my friends

Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds,

That all at once (a most fantastic sight!)

Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge

Of the blue clay-stone.


Now, my friends emerge

Beneath the wide wide Heaven—and view again

The many-steepled tract magnificent

Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea,

With some fair bark, perhaps, whose sails light up

The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles

Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander on

In gladness all; but thou, methinks, most glad,

My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined

And hunger'd after Nature, many a year,

In the great City pent, winning thy way

With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain

And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink

Behind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun!

Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb,

Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds!

Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves!

And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my friend

Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood,

Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing round

On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem

Less gross than bodily; and of such hues

As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes

Spirits perceive his presence.


A delight

Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad

As I myself were there! Nor in this bower,

This little lime-tree bower, have I not mark'd

Much that has sooth'd me. Pale beneath the blaze

Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd

Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see

The shadow of the leaf and stem above

Dappling its sunshine! And that walnut-tree

Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay

Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps

Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass

Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue

Through the late twilight: and though now the bat

Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters,

Yet still the solitary humble-bee

Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know

That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure;

No plot so narrow, be but Nature there,

No waste so vacant, but may well employ

Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart

Awake to Love and Beauty! and sometimes

'Tis well to be bereft of promis'd good,

That we may lift the soul, and contemplate

With lively joy the joys we cannot share.

My gentle-hearted Charles! when the last rook

Beat its straight path along the dusky air

Homewards, I blest it! deeming its black wing

(Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light)

Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory,

While thou stood'st gazing; or, when all was still,

Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm

For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom

No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.

[Paddo Colt 61]

[QUOTE=mightyrooster; Thanks Andy.

Since we seem to have a MR admiration circle going here, I'm adding some moderation.

She called herself Rooster the Mighty
And her posts were never flighty, nor rude or condescending. She was conscious of ever offending.
But she loved the US and the mainstream press
So her posts are not worth recommending.

[zac]

this thread soared for the stars and somewhat missed its mark but all good

[Rooster1908]

Strawman got nought.

I think we may need MR to send you two to the naughty corner .

[mightyrooster]

Here is another from the romantic school. It's by one of your favourites MR - Coleridge. Again it is an illustration of the wonder of imagination as is the Ancient Mariner of your schooldays. The Limetree is a masterpiece of the genre.

The poem recounts a day when the writer was unable, his foot having been scalded with boiling milk, to take a group of friends on what we might call a bushwalk in the environs around his home. He is unable to go physically but his imagination follows them on the journey as he sits, alone, under the branches of the Lime Tree in his garden.

Nature was an enormous part of the Romantic movement because of its impact on the senses and, therefore, on the imagination and this poem reflects that role in its rich sensuality. There is wonderfully detailed sight and sound imagery as, in imagination, he accompanies them through every stage of their walk


This Lime-tree Bower my Prison


BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,

This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost

Beauties and feelings, such as would have been

Most sweet to my remembrance even when age

Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness! They, meanwhile,

Friends, whom I never more may meet again,

On springy heath, along the hill-top edge,

Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,

To that still roaring dell, of which I told;

The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep,

And only speckled by the mid-day sun;

Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock

Flings arching like a bridge;—that branchless ash,

Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves

Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,

Fann'd by the water-fall! and there my friends

Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds,

That all at once (a most fantastic sight!)

Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge

Of the blue clay-stone.


Now, my friends emerge

Beneath the wide wide Heaven—and view again

The many-steepled tract magnificent

Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea,

With some fair bark, perhaps, whose sails light up

The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles

Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander on

In gladness all; but thou, methinks, most glad,

My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined

And hunger'd after Nature, many a year,

In the great City pent, winning thy way

With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain

And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink

Behind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun!

Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb,

Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds!

Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves!

And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my friend

Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood,

Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing round

On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem

Less gross than bodily; and of such hues

As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes

Spirits perceive his presence.


A delight

Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad

As I myself were there! Nor in this bower,

This little lime-tree bower, have I not mark'd

Much that has sooth'd me. Pale beneath the blaze

Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd

Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see

The shadow of the leaf and stem above

Dappling its sunshine! And that walnut-tree

Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay

Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps

Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass

Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue

Through the late twilight: and though now the bat

Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters,

Yet still the solitary humble-bee

Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know

That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure;

No plot so narrow, be but Nature there,

No waste so vacant, but may well employ

Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart

Awake to Love and Beauty! and sometimes

'Tis well to be bereft of promis'd good,

That we may lift the soul, and contemplate

With lively joy the joys we cannot share.

My gentle-hearted Charles! when the last rook

Beat its straight path along the dusky air

Homewards, I blest it! deeming its black wing

(Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light)

Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory,

While thou stood'st gazing; or, when all was still,

Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm

For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom

No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.

I quite like this one, being a lover of nature and landscapes. Plus it only has slight religious connotations, whereas The Ancient Mariner was really full on. The thing I hated about the latter was it is sooo sooo long. I don’t think my 17 year old self could handle it and English was my least favourite subject.

[mightyrooster]

[QUOTE=Paddo Colt 61;n965598][QUOTE=mightyrooster; Thanks Andy.

Since we seem to have a MR admiration circle going here, I'm adding some moderation.

She called herself Rooster the Mighty
And her posts were never flighty, nor rude or condescending. She was conscious of ever offending.
But she loved the US and the mainstream press
So her posts I'm not recommending.
[/QUOTE]

LOL!
Very good Paddo, except for the factual inaccuracies like the fact I hate the US.

[mightyrooster]

I think we may need MR to send you two to the naughty corner .

I haven’t done that since my kids were in primary school. Now they’re both taller than me!

[Rooster1908]

I haven’t done that since my kids were in primary school. Now they’re both taller than me!

I'm 5. 11 with a 6ft 2 in daughter ,

[Paddo Colt 61]

[QUOTE=mightyrooster;
I quite like this one, being a lover of nature and landscapes. Plus it only has slight religious connotations, whereas The Ancient Mariner was really full on. The thing I hated about the latter was it is sooo sooo long. I don't think my 17 year old self could handle it and English was my least favourite subject.

You must have had a poor English teacher in the senior years (there are plenty of them, more so than competent ones) because you display more than adequate writing skills so all that needed to be done was to teach you how to discuss. I've seen TV reports at HSC time when some loon (usually female unforch) is seen advising "Write, write, write!" which is lunacy. The idea with a text like the Ancient Mariner is to have a reasonable knowledge of the dramatic situation and to be able to discuss generally and conversationally, much as you do here. The HSC rewards your fluency and precision and the text is merely a stimulus that allows you to demonstrate your skills.

Glad that you liked the Limetree though I don't see any religious reference in it apart from "heaven" and "steeples" which are simply literary in this case and "Mighty Spirit" which I read as nature. Nor do I recall religious references in "Mariner" which is Coleridge's contribution to the myth and legend genre which, as I've said, was a big part of the Romantic movement's thematic concerns. The Mariner sinned against nature and nature took its revenge.
Do you see how the Lime tree poem exalts the role of imagination?
Hopefully the "Mariner" hasn't spooked you with regard to analysis.

[Paddo Colt 61]

A Couplet:
An extremely odd fellow called Walker well known as a bagger and talker
Loved to diss and take the piss but Heaven, please, no more of this.

[mightyrooster]

I'm 5. 11 with a 6ft 2 in daughter ,

For some reason the kids of today just seem to be getting taller and taller. Or maybe I’m just shrinking as I get older!

[mightyrooster]

[QUOTE=Paddo Colt 61;n965720][QUOTE=mightyrooster;
I quite like this one, being a lover of nature and landscapes. Plus it only has slight religious connotations, whereas The Ancient Mariner was really full on. The thing I hated about the latter was it is sooo sooo long. I don't think my 17 year old self could handle it and English was my least favourite subject.

You must have had a poor English teacher in the senior years (there are plenty of them, more so than competent ones) because you display more than adequate writing skills so all that needed to be done was to teach you how to discuss. I've seen TV reports at HSC time when some loon (usually female unforch) is seen advising "Write, write, write!" which is lunacy. The idea with a text like the Ancient Mariner is to have a reasonable knowledge of the dramatic situation and to be able to discuss generally and conversationally, much as you do here. The HSC rewards your fluency and precision and the text is merely a stimulus that allows you to demonstrate your skills.

Glad that you liked the Limetree though I don't see any religious reference in it apart from "heaven" and "steeples" which are simply literary in this case and "Mighty Spirit" which I read as nature. Nor do I recall religious references in "Mariner" which is Coleridge's contribution to the myth and legend genre which, as I've said, was a big part of the Romantic movement's thematic concerns. The Mariner sinned against nature and nature took its revenge.
Do you see how the Lime tree poem exalts the role of imagination?
Hopefully the "Mariner" hasn't spooked you with regard to analysis.[/QUOTE]
Yes, I guess ‘Mariner’ uses religious symbolism to get the general message across that if you allow selfishness and pride to distract you then this may lead you astray and then you will need to find your way to redemption. As for the Lime Tree one, yes I see that. The writer got just as much enjoyment out of imagining what his friends might see on their walk as he would have if he was physically there with them. It’s like when you read a book and you use your imagination to fill in the blanks rather than have a movie do it for you.