Classic and Contemporary Poetry
CYRANO TO HIS CHIDING FRIENDS, by EDMOND ROSTAND Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: Do what? / seek a potent protector, slink under a patron Last Line: Not to soar high, perhaps, but rise alone! Subject(s): Friendship; Plays & Playwrights | ||||||||
Do what? Seek a potent protector, slink under a patron, And like the low ivy, both early and late run Round a trunk-prop and, licking the bark, Climb by a ruse instead of rising stark? No, thanks! Like everyone, set dearly down Lines to a financier? Change into a clown In the base hope of seeing, on the lips of a minister, A smile spread, at last, that may not be sinister? No, thanks! Dine daily on a bitter pill? Have a belly worn with walking? A skin still Quicker to catch the dirt upon the knees? Execute daily dorsal suppleties? No, thanks! With one hand pet a goat until it preens, And with the other confiscate its greens? Donor of senna that rhubarb be neared, Always burn incense in somebody's beard? No, thanks! From one lap leap to the lap beyond, To become a big man in a small pond, To navigate with madrigal-propellers And the sighs of old maids as my sail-swellers? No, thanks! At the publishing house of kindly Blanks Pay to have my verses done? No, thanks! Be named high-priest by the council of buffoons That meets before the bars of old saloons? No, thanks! Work that my name shall go High with one sonnet, and write no more? No, Thanks! Discover talent only in loons, Be terrorized by threats of vague lampoons, And endlessly to say "Just let me be Among the personals in the Mercury!" No, thanks! Calculate? Have fearsand show 'em? And rather make a visit than a poem? Draw up petitions, be presented ... everything!!! No, thanks! No, thanks! No, thanks! No, thanks! Butsing, Dream, laugh, go by, be alone, be free, With a vibrant voice, and a steady eye to see, And when I please, to set my hat awry, At a yea or a nay take armsor versify! To work, unheeding wealth or glory's tune, Toward the journey I'm thinking of making to the moon! Never to write a line save from the heart, Modestly to say to myself from the very start: "Be satisfied with flowers, fruits, even leaves, If it is your own garden that achieves!" Then if fame and fortune send a soft appeaser, Not to be obliged to render aught unto Cæsar, But clear in your own eyes make your merit shine: In short, disdaining the parasitic vine, Even if you haven't to the oak's crest grown, Not to soar high, perhaps, but rise alone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENDING WITH A LINE FROM LEAR by MARVIN BELL SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#20): 1. SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#20): 2. SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL YOUR SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL TO AN ARTIST, TO TAKE HEART by LOUISE BOGAN THE SAVING WAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE FOX WHO WATCHED FOR THE MIDNIGHT SUN by NORMAN DUBIE YOU KNOW WHAT PEOPLE SAY by JAMES GALVIN |
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