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1.THE TIGER TIGER, tiger, burning brightIn the forests of the night,What immortal hand or eyeCould frame thy fearful symmetry? 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?And what shoulder and what artCould twist the sinews of thy heart?And when thy heart began to beat,What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?In what furnace was thy brain?What the anvil? What dread graspDare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee?Tiger, tiger, burning brightIn the forests of the night,What immortal hand or eyeDare frame thy fearful symmetry? -- William Blake
2.Ode to a Nightingaleby John Keats • 1. My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
2. O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim: • 3. Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret , where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
4. Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. • 5. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
6.Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
8. Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toil me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?
3. BIRDS OF PASSAGE • Black shadows fallFrom the lindens tall,That lift aloft their massive wallAgainst the southern sky;And from the realmsOf the shadowy elmsA tide-like darkness overwhelmThe fields that round us lie.But the night is fair,And everywhereA warm, soft vapor fills the air,And distant sounds seem near;And above, in the lightOf the star-lit night,Swift birds of passage wing their flightThrough the dewy atmosphere.
I hear the beatOf their pinions fleet,As from the land of snow and sleetThey seek a southern lea. I hear the cry Of their voices high Falling dreamily through the sky, But their forms I cannot see. Oh, say not so!Those sounds that flowIn murmurs of delight and woeCome not from wings of birds. They are the throngs Of the poet's songs, Murmurs of pleasures, and pains, and wrongs, The sound of winged words.This is the cryOf souls, that highOn toiling, beating pinions, fly,Seeking a warmer clime. From their distant flight Through realms of light It falls into our world of night, With the murmuring sound of rhyme. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
4.SAVE THE WILDLIFE • See the seals swimming away The little foxes as happy as ady The baby birds flying above The lions resting with their cubs The animals seem all so free untill the humans kill as much as can be why all this cruelty can't it stop What have they done, what is up?Save the wildlife, keep them from harmfor they are God's creatures, only charmKeep them free, keep them safehave some kindness in your place Lucy Doyles
5.WILDLIFE PLEASURE • Tonight they serve giraffe neck, at the long table in the restaurant, for fifty invited guests, left over will be given to the poor who have brought tin plates and metal spoons they bang together to get attention and to make music. They chatter about last week’s big meal when a grilled gorilla was served at the round table, with small oblong potatoes, rich gravy and French wines but only for the chosen fifty. Those outside were offered wine labels ofempty bottles to take home and decorate their walls. Hippo stuffed with lions heart will be next week’s menu, for afters monkey brains sweetened with sherry Amontillado JAN OSKAR HANSEN
6.EAGLES DOMAIN • The eagles flew together, controlling the land and air. Scanning the hillside heather, flying without a care They were true lovers, flying over mountain, plain and tree. Never fearing any others, bond for all to see With wings straight and true. Flying across this land. With speed and power they flew; their kingdom they did command Gliding with ease and grace; soaring over this vast terrain. This was their land, their place; this land was their domain.
. • But out of the sky came conflict,from the black devil's of the sky.To fight, the choice, that they had picked;to dominate the sky they would try. Five ravens came in fighting from out of the sun, flying high. Raven and eagle competing for dominance of the sky.The eagles rose up without fear;each Raven drove home their attack.Their intent, to the eagle's, was clear;this land, once theirs, to win back. Hovering, twisting and turning they rode out the first attack. Each eagle led with talons flashing, the Ravens were the first to crack.
The Ravens were soon defeated,both eagles dispatching them all.Ravens, the vanquished, had retreated,Far from this land they did fall. Both eagles flew in tandem,their power for all to see.From afar the Ravens watched themin awe of their majesty. • Their bond they would not sever. As one they would always remain, Two lovers entwined forever. THIS WAS STILL THEIR DOMAIN.John
7.WHITE STAG • The white stag appeared in the still of the nightHis coat shimmering softly, bathed in moonlightCropping the grass and warily scenting the airHis herd kept on eating, thankful the white stag was thereThe stream bubbled slowly as it wound its way onand the herd drank deeply while the gold moon shoneA crack of a twig alerted the stagSomeone approaching from over the cragHe grunted a warning of danger close byTelling them soon would be their turn to flyThe hunter came closer with a gun in his handThe herd now alerted, watched as the stag made his standThe powerful stag, muscles twitching, nose keenWatched as the hunter looked down on the sceneThe herd scattered quickly and ran into the night
Leaving the white stag to face his own plightMan and beast now stood aloneThe hunter aware that the herd had now goneThe man took a bullet from a case on his beltThen the stare of the stag on his body he feltHe loaded the rifle and slowly took aimPaused for a moment with a deep sense of shameHis eyes took in the graceful sightOf the majestic white stag bathed in moonlightThe pause was enough for dark clouds to roll inPlunging the white stag into shadows thereinThe white stag now hidden by the moonlights shadeTurned quickly and vanished from the forest glade.I'ts similar to John's, but mine got away!Jo
Jan Oskar Hansen • Jan Oskar Hansen was born and raised in Stavanger, Norway, but has called Portugal home for 14 years. His poems have been published in over 20 literary magazines worldwide, on the Internet, and in the BeWrite Books anthology, Shaken and Stirred (2002). • Jan Oskar Hansen’s attitudes are evident in his poetry: his wish that people were kinder and gentler; his abhorrence of war, his sense of humour about the senseless things people, including himself, have done. • But it’s his love of plants, animals and all of nature - such a great admiration that he often uses personification, giving nature human qualities and emotions in his poems—that is most evident. Perhaps it’s this quality - along with a tongue-in-cheek sense of humour - that makes his poems so unique and endearing.Letters from Portugal is divided into six chapters: On Love, On War, On People, On Poetry, Hansen Snapshots, and Letters from Portugal: actual letters from the poet to his editor. • There's something for everyone here - even those who aren't frequent readers of poetry will be moved by Hansen's passion, amused by his sarcasm, and delighted by his ability to paint pictures of the simple things in ordinary life - making them extraordinary.
JOHN KEATS • English Romantic poet John Keats was born on October 31, 1795, in London. The oldest of four children, he lost both his parents at a young age. His father, a livery-stable keeper, died when Keats was eight; his mother died of tuberculosis six years later. After his mother's death, Keats's maternal grandmother appointed two London merchants, Richard Abbey and John Rowland Sandell, as guardians. Abbey, a prosperous tea broker, assumed the bulk of this responsibility, while Sandell played only a minor role. When Keats was fifteen, Abbey withdrew him from the Clarke School, Enfield, to apprentice with an apothecary-surgeon and study medicine in a London hospital. In 1816 Keats became a licensed apothecary, but he never practiced his profession, deciding instead to write poetry.Around this time, Keats met Leigh Hunt, an influential editor of the Examiner, who published his sonnets "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer" and "O Solitude." Hunt also introduced Keats to a circle of literary men, including the poets Percy Bysshe Shelley and William Wordsworth. The group's influence enabled Keats to see his first volume, Poems by John Keats, published in 1817. Shelley, who was fond of Keats, had advised him to develop a more substantial body of work before publishing it. Keats, who was not as fond of Shelley, did not follow his advice. Endymion, a four-thousand-line erotic/allegorical romance based on the Greek myth of the same name, appeared the following year.
Two of the most influential critical magazines of the time, the Quarterly Review and Blackwood's Magazine, attacked the collection. Calling the romantic verse of Hunt's literary circle "the Cockney school of poetry," Blackwood's declared Endymion to be nonsense and recommended that Keats give up poetry. • Shelley, who privately disliked Endymion but recognized Keats's genius, wrote a more favorable review, but it was never published. Shelley also exaggerated the effect that the criticism had on Keats, attributing his declining health over the following years to a spirit broken by the negative reviews. Keats spent the summer of 1818 on a walking tour in Northern England and Scotland, returning home to care for his brother, Tom, who suffered from tuberculosis. While nursing his brother, Keats met and fell in love with a woman named Fanny Brawne. Writing some of his finest poetry between 1818 and 1819, Keats mainly worked on "Hyperion," a Miltonic blank-verse epic of the Greek creation myth. He stopped writing "Hyperion" upon the death of his brother, after completing only a small portion, but in late 1819 he returned to the piece and rewrote it as "The Fall of Hyperion" (unpublished until 1856).
Biography of William Blake 1) • William Blake and his works have been extensively discussed and criticised over the twentieth and now this century, however previous to that he was barely known. He first became known in 1863 with Alexander Gilchrist’s biography “Life” and only fully appreciated and recognized at the beginning of the twentieth century. It seems his art had been too adventurous and unconventional for the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, maybe you could even say he was ahead of his time? Either way, today he is a hugely famous figure of Romantic literature, whose work is open to various interpretations, which has been known to take a lifetime to establish. As well as his works being difficult to interpret, him as a person has also provoked much debate. Henry Crabb Robinson, who was a diarist and friend of Blake’s at the end of his life asked the question many students of Blake are still unable to conclusively answer: “Shall I call him artist or genius – or mystic – or madman?” (Lucas, 1998 p.
One of Blake’s main influences was the society in which he lived. He lived during revolutionary times and witnessed the downfall of London during Britain’s war with republican France. His disgust with society grew as he matured and 'The Songs of Innocence and Experience' depict this transition. As well as having radical religious ideas for the time (he did not believe in “religion of nature or reason, but thought man’s nature was imaginative and mystical” (Lister 1968, p.27)), he also had radical political ideas due to the day-to-day poverty he was forced to witness. “Living near the end of a century, born in a period of imperialistic wars, coming to maturity during the American Revolution and to the full bloom of his genius during the French Revolution, aware of impending economic change and sick to the bone of ruling hypocrisy, he viewed the evnts of his own days as the fulfilment of prophecy…” (Hagstrum 1964, p. 97-98) Blake’s preoccupation with good and evil as well as his strong philosophical and religious beliefs remained throughout his life and he never stopped depicting them in his poetry and engravings. He died at the age of sixty-nine in 1827 and although the Blake family name died with him, his legacy as a fascinating, complex man of many artistic talents will no doubt remain strong well into this century. Other famous works include 'Europe', 'America', 'Visions of the Daughters of Albion' and 'The Book of Urizen'.
Born on 28th November 1757 in Soho in London, he had a grounded and happy upbringing. Although always a well read and intelligent man, Blake left school at the early age of ten to attend the Henry Pars Drawing Academy for five years. The artists he admired as a child included Raphael, Michelangelo, Giulio, Romano and Dürer. He started writing poetry at the age of twelve and in 1783 his friends paid for his first collection of verses to be printed, which was entitled “Poetical Sketches” and is now seen as a major poetical event of the 18th century. Despite his obvious talents as a poet, his official profession was as an engraver because he could not afford to do a painter’s apprenticeship and therefore began his apprenticeship with the engraver James Basire in 1772. After completing his apprenticeship six years later, he joined the Royal Academy of Art. At this point his art and engraving remained separate – he wrote and drew for pleasure and simply engraved to earn a living. In 1784 he opened his own shop and in the same year completed “Island in the Moon”, which ridiculed his contemporaries of the art and literature social circles he mixed with. Two years previous to this, he married Catherine Boucher. Now Blake was an established engraver, he began experimenting with printing techniques and it was not long before he compiled his first illuminated book, 'Songs of Innocence' in 1788. Blake wanted to take his poetry beyond being just words on a page and felt they needed to be illustrated to create his desired effect. Shortly after he completed 'The Book of Thel' and from 1790-3, 'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell', which followed on from his significant Prophetic books. These books were a collection of writings on his philosophical ideas and although they have nothing to do with his poetry, it was a sign of his increasing awareness of the social injustices of his time, which led to the completion of his 'Songs of Experience' in 1794.
HENRY WODSWORTH LONGFELLOW • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, on Feb. 27, 1807, of an established New England family. He attended Portland Academy and then Bowdoin College, graduating in 1825. He was an excellent student whose skill in languages led the trustees at Bowdoin (of which his father was one) to offer the young graduate a professorship of modern languages. He prepared himself further with study abroad (at his own expense) before undertaking his duties.
Epic Poems • Longfellow achieved a national reputation with the publication of Evangeline (1847), a highly sentimental narrative poem on the expulsion of the French from Acadia. He wrote Evangeline in dactylic hexameters, a meter which in English tends toward monotony and prosiness. Nevertheless, the book was enthusiastically received. Next came the pedestrian romantic novel Kavanagh (1849) and By the Seaside and the Fireside (1850), which contained the very popular nationalistic poem "The Building of the Ship": "Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!/ Sail on, O UNION, strong and great!" • In 1854 Longfellow resigned his Harvard professorship to devote himself to his writing career. A year later he published The Song of Hiawatha, a narrative epic poem on the Native American. For this work Longfellow drew on Henry Schoolcraft's books on the Native American; he borrowed the trochaic meter from a Finnish epic. In short order, he repeated the success of Hiawatha with The Courtship of Miles Standish (1858).
