your favourite poetic line of all time

[cacian]

four to five lines.


please state the author and maybe why it is.

[PeterL]

I'd love to, but first you will have to direct me to best best line of poetry you have written. ;)

[cacian]

I'd love to, but first you will have to direct me to best best line of poetry you have written. ;)

Peter not the one you have written but from an author you have read.

[Poetaster]

Is it possible to have a favorite line of poetry?

[cacian]

Is it possible to have a favorite line of poetry?

up to four if you wished.:)

[Jackson Richardson]

To happy convents, bosomed deep in vines
Where slumber abbots purple as their wines.

Alexander Pope The Dunciad

[PeterL]

Peter not the one you have written but from an author you have read.

Of course, not what I wrote. What you wrote.

[Poetaster]

Hwaet we gardena in geardagum


Why not?

[mona amon]

"Tread softly because you tread on my dreams" - W.B. Yeats

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life" - Psalm 23

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow" - John McCrae

"Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken" - Keats

"Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure." - Shakespeare

[free]

As for ourselves we're very well;
As unaffected prose will tell.--

My Dearest Frank, I Wish You Joy by Jane Austen

[cacian]

To happy convents, bosomed deep in vines
Where slumber abbots purple as their wines.

Alexander Pope The Dunciad

interesting read :)

[cacian]

As for ourselves we're very well;
As unaffected prose will tell.--

My Dearest Frank, I Wish You Joy by Jane Austen

very nice. :)

[cacian]

QUOTE=Poetaster;1263253]Hwaet we gardena in geardagum
a what? sorry did not get this.


Why not?
why yes. Ok yes I guess you can post your own favourite too.
look forward to reading them. ;)


"Tread softly because you tread on my dreams" - W.B. Yeats

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life" - Psalm 23

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow" - John McCrae

"Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken" - Keats

"Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure." - Shakespeare

I enjoyed these thank you mona.

[Dreamwoven]

Byron: The Prisoner of Chillon

These are the first 4 lines:

"My hair is grey, but not with years,
Nor grew it white
In a single night,
As men's have grown from sudden fears:"

[cacian]

Byron: The Prisoner of Chillon

These are the first 4 lines:

"My hair is grey, but not with years,
Nor grew it white
In a single night,
As men's have grown from sudden fears:"

very nice Dreamwoven; )
now I wonder what the last four lines are. ;)

[Calidore]

I don't read much poetry, but I love this passage from "The Raven":

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

[Dreamwoven]

very nice Dreamwoven; )
now I wonder what the last four lines are. ;)

I memorised much of this long poem, it meant a lot to me.

The last four lines are:

"My very chains and I grew friends,
So much a long communion tends
to make us what we are: even I
regained my freedom with sigh."

[Lokasenna]

I think you'll find that Poetaster's chosen line is the opening of Beowulf...

Four lines, eh? Well, I guess...

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.

I feel the four line embargo unfairly disadvantages the limerick as a poetic form...

[Dreamwoven]

Thats true, but you could start a separate thread for limericks: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limerick_(poetry). They can be great fun.

[cacian]

I memorised much of this long poem, it meant a lot to me.

The last four lines are:

"My very chains and I grew friends,
So much a long communion tends
to make us what we are: even I
regained my freedom with sigh."

hey Dreamwoven thank you for posting the last four lines.
It is indeed a fine piece but it is funny how the tone of the first four lines do not quite match up the tone of the last ones don't you think? or is It just me??
why did you have to memorise it if I may ask?

[cacian]

I think you'll find that Poetaster's chosen line is the opening of Beowulf...

Four lines, eh? Well, I guess...

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.

I feel the four line embargo unfairly disadvantages the limerick as a poetic form...

of course I did not verse this and so because it is a limerick you may post the last line of course.

[cacian]

I don't read much poetry, but I love this passage from "The Raven":

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

Poe of course very nice :)

[PeterL]

But the darkness was unbroken
And the stillness gave no token.
And the only word there spoken
Was the whispered word Lenore
Merely this and nothing more.

But the funniest of his lines are at the end of Annabel Lee

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea —
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

[Dreamwoven]

hey Dreamwoven thank you for posting the last four lines.
It is indeed a fine piece but it is funny how the tone of the first four lines do not quite match up the tone of the last ones don't you think? or is It just me??
why did you have to memorise it if I may ask?

I didn't have to memorise it, I was very taken with it. Its a long poem about one of 7 brothers who was imprisoned in a dungeon with two of his brothers, the others having died "in fire and in field". He was the only surviver and was released in old age. You can read a summary here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Prisoner_of_Chillon

[stlukesguild]

"There once was a man from Nantucket,
whose... "

oops, wrong poem.

I've always liked "She walks in beauty, like the night..."

[Poetaster]

I think you'll find that Poetaster's chosen line is the opening of Beowulf...

Yeah, I could not help myself with that one. I just love that poem, I'm just about to start an MA degree, and plan to write on Beowulf for my dissertation.

[Lokasenna]

Thats true, but you could start a separate thread for limericks: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limerick_(poetry). They can be great fun.

I fear the family-friendly ethos of LitNet could be rather against the bawdy and obscene spirit of the limerick... particularly, as St Luke has pointed out, one's that begin 'There was a young man of Nantucket...'


Yeah, I could not help myself with that one. I just love that poem, I'm just about to start an MA degree, and plan to write on Beowulf for my dissertation.

I'm very glad to hear it! Although I didn't write my MA dissertation on Beowulf, I did write an extended (6,000 word) essay on it that was quite possibly the most satisfying and enjoyable thing I have ever written.

[cacian]

Yeah, I could not help myself with that one. I just love that poem, I'm just about to start an MA degree, and plan to write on Beowulf for my dissertation.

would you mind explaining:

Hwaet we gardena in geardagum ?

thanks!

[cacian]

But the darkness was unbroken
And the stillness gave no token.
And the only word there spoken
Was the whispered word Lenore
Merely this and nothing more.

But the funniest of his lines are at the end of Annabel Lee

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea —
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

I do not know Annabel Lee but I really enjoyed these lines :)

[Emil Miller]

When I was young ( very young; all waistcoats and Du Maurier cigarettes ), a roguish ex-Fleet Air Arm officer, whose girlfriend was a sixteen-year-old redheaded schoolgirl, related the poem that begins:

Four-and-twenty virgins came down from Inverness
And when the ball was over there were four-and-twenty less

Not being of a poetic nature I have, nonetheless, never forgotten the poem which, perhaps fortunately, cannot be quoted in full on this forum even though it has become part of British folklore.

[Lokasenna]

would you mind explaining:

Hwaet we gardena in geardagum ?

thanks!

'Listen! We have heard of the glory of the Spear-Danes...'

[cacian]

QUOTE=Emil Miller;1263303]When I was young ( very young; all waistcoats and Du Maurier cigarettes ), a roguish ex-Fleet Air Arm officer, whose girlfriend was a sixteen-year-old redheaded schoolgirl, related the poem that begins:

young? do you mean a teenager?
what does a roguish ex-Fleet office mean?


QUOTE]Four-and-twenty virgins came down from Inverness
And when the ball was over there were four-and-twenty less

four and twenty that is twenty four right?
I wonder why it is reversed. I noticed that a lot in Jane Austen books.


Not being of a poetic nature I have, nonetheless, never forgotten the poem which, perhaps fortunately, cannot be quoted in full on this forum even though it has become part of British folklore.
why could it not be quoted in full?

is it because of content?

[cacian]

'Listen! We have heard of the glory of the Spear-Danes...'

thank you Lokasenna :)

[Poetaster]

I'm very glad to hear it! Although I didn't write my MA dissertation on Beowulf, I did write an extended (6,000 word) essay on it that was quite possibly the most satisfying and enjoyable thing I have ever written.

That sounds fascinating! What was your essay discussing?

I'm on another writing-related website, and I've started a thread there that seems to have got people interested in Beowulf. I just love talking about it! Even if people are more interested in the Heaney translation than any other, and the Heaney version isn't very good. I've been using, more and more, the original Old English in a 'glossed text' book.

Sorry, Cacian, I didn't see your question. Looks like Lokasenna has answered your question for me, thanks Lokasenna! :)

[PeterL]

I do not know Annabel Lee but I really enjoyed these lines :)

http://www.eapoe.org/works/poems/annabela.htm

This site probably has all of the stories and poems by E. A. Poe.

[Dreamwoven]

Limericks are a form of poetry on their own: could quite easily have its own thread. More about them here:

http://www.webexhibits.org/poetry/explore_famous_limerick_atglance.html

My favourite has been this:

There was a young lady from Crewe
who wanted to catch the 2.02.
Said the conductor
Don't hurry or worry or scurry,
Its a minute or two to two-two.


Limerick was a lovely town that I visited some 40 years ago, beautifully situated in SW Eire, built of grey stone.

[cacian]

Limericks are a form of poetry on their own: could quite easily have its own thread. More about them here:

http://www.webexhibits.org/poetry/explore_famous_limerick_atglance.html

My favourite has been this:

There was a young lady from Crewe
who wanted to catch the 2.02.
Said the conductor
Don't hurry or worry or scurry,
Its a minute or two to two-two.


Limerick was a lovely town that I visited some 40 years ago, beautifully situated in SW Eire, built of grey stone.

interesting I am not a fan of Limericks I cant write them ;)

[Emil Miller]

young? do you mean a teenager?
what does a roguish ex-Fleet office mean?

Yes, seventeen to be exact and I don't know the meaning of 'roguish ex-Fleet office' either.

four and twenty that is twenty four right?
I wonder why it is reversed. I noticed that a lot in Jane Austen books.

It's doubtful that the poet had Jane Austen in mind when he composed the poem


why could it not be quoted in full?
is it because of content?

Yes, a tale of rampant sexuality might unduly affect those of a timorous disposition.

[Lokasenna]

That sounds fascinating! What was your essay discussing?

I'm on another writing-related website, and I've started a thread there that seems to have got people interested in Beowulf. I just love talking about it! Even if people are more interested in the Heaney translation than any other, and the Heaney version isn't very good. I've been using, more and more, the original Old English in a 'glossed text' book.

I wanted to write about the concept of monstrosity, not just in the poem but in the manuscript as a whole - every text that is in there focuses to a greater of lesser degree on things or people that might be considered 'monsters.' The main reason I found it really satisfying, however, was that it allowed me to bring in pictorial depictions of monsters as well. Few people are aware that the Beowulf manuscript has illuminations, which I was able to comment on and also link to other Anglo-Saxon artistic traditions - it was really refreshing to have an interdisciplinary approach that brought in art-history for once.

[Poetaster]

I wanted to write about the concept of monstrosity, not just in the poem but in the manuscript as a whole - every text that is in there focuses to a greater of lesser degree on things or people that might be considered 'monsters.' The main reason I found it really satisfying, however, was that it allowed me to bring in pictorial depictions of monsters as well. Few people are aware that the Beowulf manuscript has illuminations, which I was able to comment on and also link to other Anglo-Saxon artistic traditions - it was really refreshing to have an interdisciplinary approach that brought in art-history for once.

That sounds really fascinating. Have you ever see the Cotton manuscript firsthand? I haven't, but I'd like to. What other 'monsters' are featured in it?

[cacian]

young? do you mean a teenager?
what does a roguish ex-Fleet office mean?[
Yes, seventeen to be exact and I don't know the meaning of 'roguish ex-Fleet office' either.

ah seventeen I don't remember the last time I was seventeen :D
'roguish ex-Fleet office'
sorry I meant officer



four and twenty that is twenty four right?
I wonder why it is reversed. I noticed that a lot in Jane Austen books.

It's doubtful that the poet had Jane Austen in mind when he composed the poem


why could it not be quoted in full?
is it because of content?

Yes, a tale of rampant sexuality might unduly affect those of a timorous disposition.
may I ask the title of the poem? :)

[Dreamwoven]

interesting I am not a fan of Limericks I cant write them ;)

I can't make them up either, the one I chose was copied from somewhere, many years ago: not sure where. :)

[Emil Miller]

ah seventeen I don't remember the last time I was seventeen :D
'roguish ex-Fleet office'
sorry I meant officer


may I ask the title of the poem? :)


Well the only reason I remember my age was because I had just left school and ditched the school uniform for a three piece suit.
I believe the title of the poem is Four-and-Twenty-Virgins.

[tonywalt]

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

[cacian]

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Yeats ''The Second Coming.''

I find these two lines conjuring.

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

I think the Latin did it for me.

how do you interpret the title?

[DATo]

For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"

Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes;

And, in the hereafter, angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away!

-John Greenleaf Whittier

EDIT : last lines of the poem, 'Maude Muller'

[Lykren]

"We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep." - Shakespeare

"Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer
And Jill goes down on her back." - Auden

"I cannot live with You –
It would be Life –
And Life is over there –
Behind the Shelf" - Dickinson

"Beauty walks a razor's edge;
someday I'll make it mine." - Dylan

"And sometimes the sea
Poured brilliant iris on the glistening blue." - Stevens

"There was no harm in loving then,
no certain good either. But love was loving servants
or bosses. No straight road issuing from it.
Leaves around the door are penciled losses.
Twenty years to fix it.
Asters bloom one way or another." - Ashbery

"I have calculated the day of your return so often
I have worn out the tips of my fingers." - Anonymous author of the Jin Ping Mei

[cacian]

this is 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

[cacian]

For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: "It might have been!"

Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes;

And, in the hereafter, angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away!

-John Greenleaf Whittier

EDIT : last lines of the poem, 'Maude Muller'
very nice :)


"We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep." - Shakespeare

"Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer
And Jill goes down on her back." - Auden

"I cannot live with You –
It would be Life –
And Life is over there –
Behind the Shelf" - Dickinson

"Beauty walks a razor's edge;
someday I'll make it mine." - Dylan

"And sometimes the sea
Poured brilliant iris on the glistening blue." - Stevens

"There was no harm in loving then,
no certain good either. But love was loving servants
or bosses. No straight road issuing from it.
Leaves around the door are penciled losses.
Twenty years to fix it.
Asters bloom one way or another." - Ashbery

"I have calculated the day of your return so often
I have worn out the tips of my fingers." - Anonymous author of the Jin Ping Mei

the last one is awfully awful to read.
some of these are cool.

[JanVanHogspeuw]

Stand close around, ye Stygian set,
With Dirce in one boat conveyed!
Or Charon, seeing, may forget
That he is old and she a shade. - Walter Savage Landor


Regarding both with slow and sidelong view,
She snuffed the candle, curtsied, and withdrew. - Lord Byron - Don Juan, Canto I, CLXXIII


Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless. - Philip Larkin - High Windows


But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought - Shakespeare - sonnet 44

[Lykren]

the last one is awfully awful to read.

You can't possibly be referring to the quotation from the Jin Ping Mei?

[cacian]

You can't possibly be referring to the quotation from the Jin Ping Mei?

yes I find it too painful to read. the image is daunting don't you think?

[Emil Miller]

It’s no go the Yogi-Man, it’s no go Blavatsky,
All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.

Bagpipe Music by Louis MacNeice.

As a youngster I used to think this was pretty smart but not these days.
Nonetheless, it's difficult to forget.

[Pope of Eruke]

I would like to give you more but I cannot hold
This stuff within my hands and the train goes on;
I know that there are further syntheses to which,
As you have perhaps, people at last attain
And find that they are rich and breathing gold.
- Louis MacNeice, Train to Dublin

That's one I loved from the moment I first heard it.

[readspider]

By Leonard Cohen from his song 'One of us cannot be wrong'

An Eskimo showed me a movie
He'd recently taken of you
The poor man could hardly stop shivering
His lips and his fingers were blue
I suppose that he froze when the wind took your clothes
And I guess he could never get warm
But you stand there no nice
In your blizzard of ice
Oh, please let me come in to the storm

[tonywalt]

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.
— Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

Shakespeare

[Dreamwoven]

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.
— Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

Shakespeare

There is a lot of wonderful poetry in Shakespeare, funnily enough so much so that we often overlook the obvious. Thanks for that, TW!

[Sido]

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome
-Derek Walcott; Love after love-

But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell:
Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
-Shakespeare; sonnet 144-

In what distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
-William Blake; The Tiger–

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
-T.S.Eliot; The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock-

[Motherof8]

I don't know about particular lines, but I like this poem: "Abou Ben Adhem."

[Sido]

I don't know about particular lines, but I like this poem: "Abou Ben Adhem."

I just read this poem after you mentioned it here, and I found it very touching. Thanks for mentioning it :)

[Pope of Eruke]

I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

[Nick Capozzoli]

These lines, from Hamlet:

To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep—
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.

The line, "For in that sleep of death
what dreams may come" is particularly appalling, and is perhaps
the most brilliant poetic expression in our literature of uncertainty
about what happens after death.

Do we somehow "dream" after we die, or do we indeed have any
conscious existence at all after death? And if we do, what do we
"dream of?" Nothing at all? Or do we dream of "something?"

And if we do, are those dreams pleasant or unpleasant? There are
three possibilities: 1) We have no dreams or consciousness after death,
we just die and have no after death existence or consciousness;
2) We have dreams and they are pleasant; and, 3) We have rather
unpleasant dreams.

My understanding of Hamlet's soliloquy is that he is less troubled by
the possibility that there is no conscious existence after death (i.e. by
no dreams) than he is by the possibility of some sort of nightmare).

This is expressed in the ominous way the question is posed, "what dreams
may come."

[Dreamwoven]

This is a very important and interesting question. I am an atheist, and yet, being old and infirm in such a way that I can see the decline in health in my particular case is leading to a growing isolation and withdrawing into the body. So I often wonder about what happens after death. This does seem to be one of those questions that crosses between this literature forum and the religious texts forum. Just as relevant to both.

Dreaming after death suggests that death is not complete but that dreams still tie us to the life we led. This opens up a whole spectrum of alternatives, the work of Jung, Steiner, and books like Yesterday's Children by Jenny Cockell, Life after Death by Raymond Moody, Elizabeth Kübler-Ross (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_Kübler-Ross) on near-death experiences.

[Cuppa' Tea]

More than a few lines, but my favorite section of this poem...

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.”
-Oscar Wilde "The Ballad of Reading Gaol"

[cacian]

For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.”
what does that mean!!?

[millwallbill]

"Thou still unravish`d bride of quietness..." [Keats]

"For each man kills the thing he loves..." [Wilde]