Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CLASSICS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON

Poem Explanation Poet Analysis

First Line: FAIN TO KNOW GOLDEN THINGS, FAIN TO GROW WISE
Fain to know golden things, fain to grow wise,

Fain to achieve the secret of fair souls:

His thought, scarce other lore need solemnize,
Fain to know golden things, fain to grow wise,
Whom Virgil calms, whom Sophocles controls:
Fain to achieve the secret of fair souls:

His thought, scarce other lore need solemnize,

Whom Virgil calms, whom Sophocles controls:
Whose conscience Æschylus, a warrior voice,

Enchaunted hath with majesties of doom:

Whose melancholy mood can best rejoice,
Whose conscience Æschylus, a warrior voice,
When Horace sings, and roses bower the tomb:
Enchaunted hath with majesties of doom:

Whose melancholy mood can best rejoice,

When Horace sings, and roses bower the tomb:
Who, following Caesar unto death, discerns

What bitter cause was Rome's, to mourn that day:

With austere Tacitus for master, learns
Who, following Caesar unto death, discerns
The look of empire in its proud decay:
What bitter cause was Rome's, to mourn that day:

With austere Tacitus for master, learns

The look of empire in its proud decay:
Whom dread Lucretius of the mighty line

Hath awed, but not borne down: who loves the flame,

That leaped within Catullus the divine,
Whom dread Lucretius of the mighty line
His glory, and his beauty, and his shame:
Hath awed, but not borne down: who loves the flame,

That leaped within Catullus the divine,

His glory, and his beauty, and his shame:
Who dreams with Plato and, transcending dreams,

Mounts to the perfect City of true God:

Who hails its marvellous and haunting gleams,
Who dreams with Plato and, transcending dreams,
Treading the steady air, as Plato trod:
Mounts to the perfect City of true God:

Who hails its marvellous and haunting gleams,

Treading the steady air, as Plato trod:
Who with Thucydides pursues the way,

Feeling the heart-beats of the ages gone:

Till fall the clouds upon the Attic day,
Who with Thucydides pursues the way,
And Syracuse draw tears for Marathon:
Feeling the heart-beats of the ages gone:

Till fall the clouds upon the Attic day,

And Syracuse draw tears for Marathon:
To whom these golden things best give delight:

The music of most sad Simonides;

Propertius' ardent graces; and the might
To whom these golden things best give delight:
Of Pindar chaunting by the olive trees:
The music of most sad Simonides;

Propertius' ardent graces; and the might

Of Pindar chaunting by the olive trees:
Livy, and Roman consuls purple swathed:

Plutarch, and heroes of the ancient earth:

And Aristophanes, whose laughter scathed
Livy, and Roman consuls purple swathed:
The souls of fools, and pealed in lyric mirth:
Plutarch, and heroes of the ancient earth:

And Aristophanes, whose laughter scathed

The souls of fools, and pealed in lyric mirth:
AEolian rose-leaves blown from Sappho's isle;

Secular glories of Lycean thought:

Sallies of Lucian, bidding wisdom smile;
Æolian rose-leaves blown from Sappho's isle;
Angers of Juvenal, divinely wrought:
Secular glories of Lycean thought:

Sallies of Lucian, bidding wisdom smile;

Angers of Juvenal, divinely wrought:
Pleasant, and elegant, and garrulous,

Pliny: crowned Marcus, wistful and still strong:

Sicilian seas and their Theocritus,
Pleasant, and elegant, and garrulous,
Pastoral singer of the last Greek song:
Pliny: crowned Marcus, wistful and still strong:

Sicilian seas and their Theocritus,

Pastoral singer of the last Greek song:
Herodotus, all simple and all wise:

Demosthenes, a lightning flame of scorn:

The surge of Cicero, that never dies:
Herodotus, all simple and all wise:
And Homer, grand against the ancient morn.
Demosthenes, a lightning flame of scorn:

The surge of Cicero, that never dies:

And Homer, grand against the ancient morn.




Home: PoetryExplorer.net