Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO MARIA GISBORNE, by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: In london, that great sea, whose ebb and flow Last Line: You and I know in london. Subject(s): Poetry & Poets | ||||||||
You are now In London, that great sea, whose ebb and flow At once is deaf and loud, and on the shore Vomits its wrecks, and still howls on for more. Yet in its depth what treasures! You will see That which was Godwin,--greater none than he Though fallen--and fallen on evil times--to stand Among the spirits of our age and land, Before the dread tribunal of to come The foremost,--while Rebuke cowers pale and dumb. You will see Coleridge--he who sits obscure In the exceeding lustre and the pure Intense irradiation of a mind, Which, with its own internal lightning blind, Flags wearily through darkness and despair-- A cloud-encircled meteor of the air, A hooded eagle among blinking owls.-- You will see Hunt--one of those happy souls Which are the salt of the earth, and without whom This world would smell like what it is--a tomb; Who is, what others seem; his room no doubt Is still adorned with many a cast from Shout, With graceful flowers tastefully placed about; And coronals of bay from ribbons hung, And brighter wreaths in neat disorder flung; The gifts of the most learned among some dozens Of female friends, sisters-in-law, and cousins. And there is he with his eternal puns, Which beat the dullest brain for smiles, like duns Thundering for money at a poet's door; Alas! it is no use to say, 'I'm poor!' Or oft in graver mood, when he will look Things wiser than were ever read in book, Except in Shakespeare's wisest tenderness.-- You will see Hogg,--and I cannot express His virtnes,--though I know that they are great, Because he locks, then barricades the gate Within which they inhabit;--of his wit And wisdom, you'll cry out when you are bit. He is a pearl within an oyster shell, One of the richest of the deep;--and there Is English Peacock, with his mountain Fair, Turned into a Flamingo;--that shy bird That gleams i' the Indian air--have vou not heard When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindoo, His best friends hear no more of him?--but you Will see him, and will like him too, I hope, With the milk-white Snowdonian Antelope Matched with this cameleopard--his fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it; A strain too learned for a shallow age, Too wise for selfish bigots; let his page, Which charms the chosen spirits of the time, Fold itself up for the serener clime Of years to come, and find its recompense In that just expectation.--Wit and sense, Virtue and human knowledge; all that might Make this dull world a business of delight, Are all combined in Horace Smith.--And these, With some exceptions, which I need not tease Your patience by descanting on,--are all You and I know in London. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENVY OF OTHER PEOPLE'S POEMS by ROBERT HASS THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AS A SONG by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: TIME IS FILLED by LYN HEJINIAN OXOTA: A SHORT RUSSIAN NOVEL: CHAPTER 192 by LYN HEJINIAN LET ME TELL YOU WHAT A POEM BRINGS by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA JUNE JOURNALS 6/25/88 by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA FOLLOW ROZEWICZ by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA HAVING INTENDED TO MERELY PICK ON AN OIL COMPANY, THE POEM GOES AWRY by HICOK. BOB A DIRGE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY ADONAIS; AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF JOHN KEATS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |
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