Byron or Blake?
Here are two short poems, by Blake and Byron, for your delectation. But which do you prefer?
It bears saying that the Romantic period probably invested more heavily in long poems, like Childe Harold or The Four Zoas. They may have had more time than we do!
Cheers,
John
The Sick Rose, BY WILLIAM BLAKE
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
So We'll Go No More a Roving, BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
It bears saying that the Romantic period probably invested more heavily in long poems, like Childe Harold or The Four Zoas. They may have had more time than we do!
Cheers,
John
The Sick Rose, BY WILLIAM BLAKE
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
So We'll Go No More a Roving, BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
I think your choice has weight, Phil. I also thought of not voicing my own opinion and then thought why ever not? The Blake I think is hard to beat - it's an astonishing poem. As a teenager, I loved the opening of the Byron, which rang with mystery for me. Nowadays, I especially like the second stanza:
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
That to my mind is pretty much the sort of deep poetry people have been talking about in the last half-century - the metaphor is almost impossible to unpack. It also reminds me a good deal of Yeats. So, though I can't argue with the Blake, I think the Byron has merit as well.
All in all, the Romantics wrote good stuff!
Cheers,
John
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
That to my mind is pretty much the sort of deep poetry people have been talking about in the last half-century - the metaphor is almost impossible to unpack. It also reminds me a good deal of Yeats. So, though I can't argue with the Blake, I think the Byron has merit as well.
All in all, the Romantics wrote good stuff!
Cheers,
John
Another vote for Blake here John, although I love the Byron poem too for reasons you already know. Songs of Innocence was the first collection I read in my early 20s.
I saw the new live action Little Mermaid film today, which is very woke. I found Blake's tackling of race in Songs of Innocence very interesting all those years ago. A bit more enlightening than Disney anyway.
I saw the new live action Little Mermaid film today, which is very woke. I found Blake's tackling of race in Songs of Innocence very interesting all those years ago. A bit more enlightening than Disney anyway.
The Little Black Boy
William Blake
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
My mother taught me underneath a tree
And sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say.
Look on the rising sun: there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning joy in the noonday.
And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
Saying: come out from the grove my love & care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.
Thus did my mother say and kissed me,
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:
Ill shade him from the heat till he can bear,
To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him and he will then love me.
Hi Morpheus,
That's a fine poem. Blake at his best is pretty weird, but he does take the top of your head off, as Emily Dickinson requested of poetry. Here's another black child in Blake's world: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/ ... very-young . CHimney sweeping was done by kids under ten and was dangerous, sometimes fatal work.
Cheers,
John
Greetings, Fliss and Coo!
Not only a game, but a deep game that one can cotton to! And quite rightly.
Cheerie,
John
That's a fine poem. Blake at his best is pretty weird, but he does take the top of your head off, as Emily Dickinson requested of poetry. Here's another black child in Blake's world: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/ ... very-young . CHimney sweeping was done by kids under ten and was dangerous, sometimes fatal work.
Cheers,
John
Greetings, Fliss and Coo!
Not only a game, but a deep game that one can cotton to! And quite rightly.
Cheerie,
John
Greetings, FT and W.-B.!
Cotton is splendid in fine weather and I in fact am wearing it as I speak. Props to cotton, or tree wool - Baumwolle - in German!
Cotton as a verb I believe is worthy of greater use and I am glad to further that end. Yes, the two poems do somehow connect, n'est-ce pas?
Cheerie,
John
Cotton is splendid in fine weather and I in fact am wearing it as I speak. Props to cotton, or tree wool - Baumwolle - in German!
Cotton as a verb I believe is worthy of greater use and I am glad to further that end. Yes, the two poems do somehow connect, n'est-ce pas?
Cheerie,
John
- CalebPerry
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I know both poems pretty well, although I never committed either to memory.
I like both of them, but don't love either one. They were written at a time when poetry was less sophisticated, and I crave that sophistication.
I agree with Phil that Blake's poem is a little deeper. That "flying worm" image is really quite terrifying, especially given what we know today. I always thought it was wrong because no worms "fly", but if you consider that lots of insects lay eggs that become larvae, then that image is quite accurate. The part of Blake's poem that I like the lease is the word "crimson".
I like both of them, but don't love either one. They were written at a time when poetry was less sophisticated, and I crave that sophistication.
I agree with Phil that Blake's poem is a little deeper. That "flying worm" image is really quite terrifying, especially given what we know today. I always thought it was wrong because no worms "fly", but if you consider that lots of insects lay eggs that become larvae, then that image is quite accurate. The part of Blake's poem that I like the lease is the word "crimson".
Signature info:
If you don't like the black theme, it is easy to switch to a lighter color. Just ask me how.
If I don't critique your poem, it is probably because I don't understand it.
If you don't like the black theme, it is easy to switch to a lighter color. Just ask me how.
If I don't critique your poem, it is probably because I don't understand it.
- CalebPerry
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Well, crimson basically means blood, and I don't associate blood with flowers. The word also introduces a dramatic concept in the poem which I think is out of place.
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Now, this is interesting. I just looked up the word, and it says nothing about blood. I was sure the word meant (blood-colored).
Signature info:
If you don't like the black theme, it is easy to switch to a lighter color. Just ask me how.
If I don't critique your poem, it is probably because I don't understand it.
If you don't like the black theme, it is easy to switch to a lighter color. Just ask me how.
If I don't critique your poem, it is probably because I don't understand it.
Indeed John, and a girl named Rose
A layered poem that can take a literal, metaphorical or symbolic reading. Blake did not conform that we know!
An interesting reading of the poem can be found here:
https://interestingliterature.com/2016/ ... sick-rose/
A layered poem that can take a literal, metaphorical or symbolic reading. Blake did not conform that we know!
An interesting reading of the poem can be found here:
https://interestingliterature.com/2016/ ... sick-rose/
Precisely, MacPhil! Key for me is 'symbolically suggestive' (near the end). I think that explains why I've had trouble arriving at a meaning; there's no meaning as such, just the suggestion. Let us contemplate these things while enjoying our cake slices. Well, I'm rapidly entering Sleepy Time at the moment, but I might have more thoughts tomorrow
Bw,
Fliss
PS: I'm reminded of my struggle to grasp The Four Quartets, only to hear on an episode of In Our Time that, 'The poem makes sense as the work of a mystic'
Bw,
Fliss
PS: I'm reminded of my struggle to grasp The Four Quartets, only to hear on an episode of In Our Time that, 'The poem makes sense as the work of a mystic'
Blake is pretty systematically weird, a two-edged sword that brings him real power but makes him to a certain extent unrecuperable - there are always grounds at the bottom of the cup. My hunch is that he was a bit mad, which does similar things.
Let's mention that worm also means dragon, which flies, unlike say a snake. One doesn't expect a dragon to attack a rose, but it does open the door to flight.
Cheers,
John
Let's mention that worm also means dragon, which flies, unlike say a snake. One doesn't expect a dragon to attack a rose, but it does open the door to flight.
Cheers,
John
Here's Wikipedia:
Although more usually used to describe the common earthworm, the English language word "worm" derives from Old Norse orm and Old English wyrm, meaning "serpent" or "dragon".[4] The synonymous usage of worm and dragon in English lessened during the following centuries. Samuel Johnson's dictionary drew a distinction between worms and dragons (while retaining the word serpent as a definition of worm) and the last synonymous usage of worm and dragon as noted in the Oxford English Dictionary dates to the 17th century.[5]
Cheers,
John
Although more usually used to describe the common earthworm, the English language word "worm" derives from Old Norse orm and Old English wyrm, meaning "serpent" or "dragon".[4] The synonymous usage of worm and dragon in English lessened during the following centuries. Samuel Johnson's dictionary drew a distinction between worms and dragons (while retaining the word serpent as a definition of worm) and the last synonymous usage of worm and dragon as noted in the Oxford English Dictionary dates to the 17th century.[5]
Cheers,
John
I think it's back in vogue with the fantasy genre John
https://www.theonering.net/torwp/2016/0 ... %20dragons).
https://www.theonering.net/torwp/2016/0 ... %20dragons).
I feel that Tolkien uses it in that sense, which might account for the fantasy users. I'd be unsurprised to learn that Blake knew of that meaning as well, though obviously one to one equivalency is a mug's game.
CHeers,
John
CHeers,
John