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Many Happy Returns: Poetry Friday

Happy Birthday to poet and novelist George Meredith, b.1828, of whom Oscar Wilde said, “”Ah, Meredith! Who can define him? His style is chaos illumined by flashes of lightning.” (Wilde had an opinion on everything and everyone, didn’t he?)

Meredith wrote one novel that I’ve read, Diana of the Crossways.

I’ve also read a series of sonnets that Meridith wrote, called Modern Love, in which he worked out his feelings about his wife who three years after their marriaage deserted him and ran away with a Pre-Raphaelite artist. (Those Pre-Raphaelites!) the sonnet sequence consists of fifty sonnets tracing the decay and the death of a romance and a marriage. Rather a sad subject for the advent of Valentine’s Day. Think of it as an antidote to all the hearts and flowers clogging the airways.

It is the season of the sweet wild rose,
My Lady’s emblem in the heart of me!
So golden-crownèd shines she gloriously,
And with that softest dream of blood she glows:
Mild as an evening heaven round Hesper bright!
I pluck the flower, and smell it, and revive
The time when in her eyes I stood alive.
I seem to look upon it out of Night.
Here’s Madam, stepping hastily. Her whims
Bid her demand the flower, which I let drop.
As I proceed, I feel her sharply stop,
And crush it under heel with trembling limbs.
She joins me in a cat-like way, and talks
Of company, and even condescends
To utter laughing scandal of old friends.
These are the summer days, and these our walks.

Ouch. I hope if you send your love roses for Valentine’s Day, they fare better than the one in the poem.

Love Links, Lists, and Quotes 2010

Just in time for Valentine’s Day . . . if you need some help:

Love Links
Joe Carter Tells Guys How to Write a Love Letter
All for Love: Kelli’s Valentine Traditions
Strawberry Cake recipe for Valentine’s Day

Books about Love, Romance, and Marriage
Anatomy of a Marriage: Novels about Marriage
The Love Letters by Madeleine L’Engle.
Secret Keeper by Mitali Perkins
Random Harvest by James Hilton
Green Mansions by WH Hudson. ““Our souls were near together, like two raindrops side by side, drawing irresistibly nearer, ever nearer; for now they had touched and were not two, but one inseparable drop, crystallised beyond change, not to be disintegrated by time, nor shattered by death’s blow, nor resolved by any alchemy.”
Real Romance for Grown-up Women
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Yes. Heathcliff and Cathy were actually the worst of lovers –capricious, unfaithful while remaining bonded to one another, but let’s not quibble. “I am Heathcliff!” says Cathy, and what better description of the marriage of two souls is there in literature?
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Jane and Mr. Rochester are as radically faithful and loving in their own way as Cathy and Heathcliff imagine themselves to be. And they actually get together before they die, surely an advantage for lovers.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy are the epitome of lovers in tension that finally leads to consummation.
Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers. Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane are such a hesitant, battle-scarred pair of lovers that thye almost don’t get together at all, but that’s what makes the series of romance-within-a mystery novels that culminates in Gaudy Night so very romantic. They’ve used the same formula in TV series ever since, but Sayers is much better than any Remington Steele (Laura and Remington) or Cheers (Sam and Diane). And Ms. Sayers was even able to write a credibly interesting epilogue novel in Busman’s Honeymoon, which is better than the TV writers can do most of the time.
At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon. Who says love is only for the young? Father Tim and Cynthia make it through thick and thin and through five or six books, still in love, still throwing quotations at one another. They’re great lovers in the best sense of the word.

My Love Song Playlist (very retro–70’s)
The Twelfth of Never by Donnie Osmond.
Cherish by David Cassidy and the Partridge Family.
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack
Just the Way You Are by Billy Joel

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As ev’ry fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know love at all. ~Joni Mitchell

I Honestly Love You by Olivia Newton John.
Evergreen by Barbra Streisand.
Can’t Help Falling in Love With You by Elvis Presley.
Laughter in the Rain by Neil Sedaka.
L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole.

Poetry of Love
A Slice of Life by Edgar Guest
Come Live With Me and Be My Love by Christopher Marlowe
She Walks in Beauty Like the Night by Lord Byron
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe.
Young Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott
As I Walked Out One Evening by WH Auden
If Thou Must Love Me by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Sonnet 116: Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds by William Shakespeare.
Oh, My Luve’s Like a Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns.
How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;
Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers’ tears.
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”
~Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Recommended Movies for Valentine’s Day
Marty. “Ernest Borgnine (Oscar for Best Actor) stars as a 35 year old Italian butcher who’s still not married in spite of the fact that all his younger brothers and sisters have already tied the knot.”
It Happened One Night. Clark Gable is a reporter in this romantic comedy about a run-away rich girl.
Much Ado About Nothing. Kenneth Branaugh and Emma Thompson. The reparte between Benedick and Beatrice is so memorable that you may find yourself quoting Shakespeare in spite of yourself.
My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I really loved the fact that Ian knew that he was not just marrying a girl but also her family.
The Princess Bride. Romance at it finest and funniest. “That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying ‘As you wish’, what he meant was, ‘I love you.’ And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.”
You’ve Got Mail. Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are a great pair.
Romeo and Juliet. The Franco Zefferelli version.

Love Quotes
“There is no happiness in love, except at the end of an English novel.” ~Trollope

“It may have been observed that there is no regular path for getting out of love as there is for getting in. Some people look upon marriage as a short cut that way but it has been known to fail.” ~Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy.

One advantage of marriage, it seems to me, is that when you fall out of love with him or he falls out of love with you, it keeps you together until maybe you fall in again.
~Judith Viorst

Love Quotes 2007

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
My beloved is mine, and I am his . . .

What are your favorites? Romantic movie? Romantic novel? Love song? Love poem?

Many Happy Returns: Poetry Friday with Marlowe and Raleigh

Tomorrow, February 6th, is the birthday of poet and playwright Christopher Marlowe.

IMG_3888.JPGCOME live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies;
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair-lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy-buds,
With coral clasps and amber-studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
~Christopher Marlowe (1599)

Sir Walter Raleigh wrote this reply to Marlowe’s romantic invitation:

ddddddIf all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complain of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy bed of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.
~Sir Walter Raleigh (1600)

The host for today’s Poetry Friday is Great Kid Books.

Many Happy Returns: January 30th

Walter Savage Landor, b.1775.
“I strove with none; for none was worth my strife,
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of life,
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.”

Ann Taylor (b. 1782) who along with her sister Jane published several books of poems for children. Among the poems she and sister Jane wrote was the well-known Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. I found an online copy of a book of the sisters’ poems entitled Little Ann. Most of the poems in the collection sound quaintly didactic to modern ears, but I rather enjoyed reading them. This one, unlike most of the others, is just for fun:

DANCE, little baby, dance up high:
Never mind, baby, mother is by;
Crow and caper, caper and crow,
There, little baby, there you go;
Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,
Backwards and forwards, round and round:
Then dance, little baby, and mother shall sing,
While the gay merry coral goes ding-a-ding, ding.

Franklin D. Roosevelt, b. 1882.

Angela Margaret Thirkell, b. 1890. Read a short piece on Ms. Thirkell’s book, Private Enterprise or County Chronicle by the same author. I need to read some more books by Ms. Thirkell.

Barbara Tuchman, b. 1912. I am very fond of Tuchman’s book, A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous Fourteenth Century, a history of France during the high Middle Ages. However, I must enjoy reading about the Middle Ages more than I like reading about WW I because I have yet to finish The Guns of August, the book that won Tuchman her first Pulitzer Prize in 1963. She also won a 1972 Pulitzer for Stillwell and the American Experience in China.

Lloyd Alexander, b.1924. Everyone is, or should be, familiar with Mr. Alexander excellent Prydain Chronicles. The five books in this series rank only just after Tolkien’s and C.S. Lewis’s fantasy series in my list of fantasy fiction. Taran, the assistant pig-keeper, Eilonwy, the princess who has a way of asking inconvenient questions, Fflewddur Fflam, the would-be bard whose truth-telling harp boasts a number of broken strings, and Gurgi, the rhyming creature of indeterminate origins, are all memorable characters and endearing ones.

However, I must mention that Mr. Alexander also wrote other books, some that I’ve read and appreciated and others that I have yet to enjoy. His Westmark Trilogy consists of Westmark, The Kestrel, and The Beggar Queen. The series features a protagonist named Theo who finds himself on both sides at various times of a simmering revolution against the monarchy of the country of Westmark. The themes of the trilogy center around the difficulties of making moral choices and the ethical implications of war and violence. I thought the books were wonderful when I first read them, and I’d like to go back and read them again sometime.

In addition to writing children’s literature, Lloyd Alexander produced the first English translation of Jean-Paul Sartre’s La nausee. Mr. Alexander died May 17, 2007.

Richard Bruce “Dick” Cheney, b.1941. “Four years ago, some said the world had grown calm, and many assumed that the United States was invulnerable to danger. That thought might have been comforting; it was also false. Like other generations of Americans, we soon discovered that history had great and unexpected duties in store for us.”

Many Happy Returns: January 19th

poe
Edgar Allan Poe, b. 1809.
Semicolon’s Favorite Poets: Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe: Annabel Lee.
Edgar Allan Poe: Tintinnabulation.
Quoth the Raven.
Tricia reviews Nevermore: A Photobiography of Edgar Allan Poe by Karen Lange.
In which I am stripped of my romantic illusions about the poem Annabel Lee by Someone Who Knows (at Wittingshire).
The Edgar Allan Poe Calendar, a blog celebrating the life and work of Edgar Allan Poe.

I think I like John Astin’s rendition better, but Mr. Jones is not bad.

Poetry Friday: Christ in the Universe by Alice Meynell

I found this lovely poem via Elliot at Claw of the Conciliator:

WITH this ambiguous earth
His dealings have been told us. These abide:
The signal to a maid, the human birth,
The lesson, and the young Man crucified.

But not a star of all
The innumerable host of stars has heard
How He administered this terrestrial ball.
Our race have kept their Lord’s entrusted Word.

Of His earth-visiting feet
None knows the secret, cherished, perilous,
The terrible, shamefast, frightened, whispered, sweet,
Heart-shattering secret of His way with us.

No planet knows that this
Our wayside planet, carrying land and wave,
Love and life multiplied, and pain and bliss,
Bears, as chief treasure, one forsaken grave.

Nor, in our little day,
May His devices with the heavens be guessed,
His pilgrimage to thread the Milky Way
Or His bestowals there be manifest.

But in the eternities,
Doubtless we shall compare together, hear
A million alien Gospels, in what guise
He trod the Pleiades, the Lyre, the Bear.

O, be prepared, my soul!
To read the inconceivable, to scan
The myriad forms of God those stars unroll
When, in our turn, we show to them a Man.

He is, indeed, much Bigger than our minds have yet conceived, and at the same time He “became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

Great Kid Books is the blog host for Poetry Friday this week.

Christmas Poem by G.K. Chesterton

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost—how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.

This world is wild as an old wife’s tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

Christmas in Coventry, England, c. 1200

Neither in halls nor yet in bowers,
Born would he not be,
Neither in castles nor yet in towers
That seemly were to see;
But at his Father’s will,
The prophecy to fulfill,
Betwixt an ox and an ass
Jesus, this king, born he was.
Heaven he bring us till!
~Coventry Mystery Play, c.1200. Taken from The Christian Almanac, compiled by George Grant and Gregory Wilbur.

Lully, lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
Lullay, thou little tiny Child,
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
O sisters too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day
This poor youngling for whom we do sing
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
Herod, the king, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day
His men of might, in his own sight,
All children young to slay.
That woe is me, poor Child for Thee!
And ever mourn and sigh,
For thy parting neither say nor sing,
Bye, bye, lully, lullay.
~Coventry Carol, c.1500, commemorating The Massacre of the Innocents ordered by Herod the Great and told about in Matthew 2:16-18.

Lewis Carroll’s Christmas Greeting

Christmas Greeting
by Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

Lady, dear, if Fairies may
For a moment lay aside
Cunning tricks and elfish play,
‘Tis at happy Christmas-tide.

We have heard the children say –
Gentle children, whom we love –
Long ago on Christmas Day,
Came a message from above,

Still, as Christmas-tide comes round,
They remember it again –
Echo still the joyful sound
“Peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Yet the hearts must childlike be
Where such heavenly guests abide;
Unto children, in their glee,
All the year is Christmas-tide!

Thus, forgetting tricks and play
For a moment, Lady dear,
We would wish you, if we may,
Merry Christmas, Glad New Year!

Poetry Friday: Christmas by George Herbert

The shepherds sing; and shall I silent be?
My God, no hymn for Thee?
My soul’s a shepherd too; a flock it feeds
Of thoughts, and words, and deeds.
The pasture is Thy word: the streams, Thy grace
Enriching all the place.
Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers
Outsing the daylight hours.
Then will we chide the sun for letting night
Take up his place and right:
We sing one common Lord; wherefore he should
Himself the candle hold.
I will go searching, till I find a sun
Shall stay, till we have done;
A willing shiner, that shall shine as gladly,
As frost-nipped suns look sadly.
Then will we sing, and shine all our own day,
And one another pay:
His beams shall cheer my breast, and both so twine,
Till ev’n His beams sing, and my music shine.