The house is so quiet nowThe vacuum cleaner sulks in the corner closet,Its bag limp as a stopped lung, its mouthGrinning into the floor, maybe at mySlovenly life, my dog-dead youth.I’ve lived this way long enough,But when my old woman died her soulWent into that vacuum cleaner, and I can’t bearTo see the bag swell …
While my hair was still cut straight across my foreheadI played about the front gate, pulling flowers.You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.And we went on living in the village of Chokan:Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.At fourteen I married My Lord you.I never laughed, …
The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter By Ezra Pound Read More »
My husband gives me an AFor last night’s supper,an incomplete for my ironing,a B plus in bed.My son says I am average,an average mother, but ifI put my mind to itI could improve.My daughter believesIn pass/fail and tells meI pass. Wait ‘til they learnI’m dropping out. Poet’s Life and Achievements Linda Pastan was born in …
“O ‘Melia, my dear, this does everything crown! Who could have supposed I should meet you in Town?And whence such fair garments, such prosperi-ty?”–“O didn’t you know I’d been ruined?” said she.–“You left us in tatters, without shoes or socks,Tired of digging potatoes, and spudding up docks;And now you’ve gay bracelets and bright feathers three!”–“Yes: …
Thomas Hardy was born in 1840 in Dorset, England. His father was a stonemason and a local builder. His mother was a well-read and educated woman. Thomas went to school at age eight. There he learned Latin and showed his potentials in education. However, his family was poor and could not provide their son with …
Thomas Hardy – Poet of Romanticism | An Introduction Read More »
Still to be neat, still to be dressed,As you were going to a feast;Still be powdered, still perfumed;Lady, it is to be presumed,Though art’s hid causes are not found,All is not sweet, all is not sound.Give me a look, give me a faceThat makes simplicity a grace;Robes loosely flowing, hair as free;Such sweet neglect more …
Still to Be Neat by Ben Jonson’s (Analysis & Summary) Read More »
‘When I consider how my light is spent,Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,And that one talent which is death to hideLodged with me useless, though my soul more bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and presentMy true account, lest he returning chide,“Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?”I fondly ask. But Patience, to …
On His Blindness By John Milton (Summary & Analysis) Read More »
John Milton, who towers over all his contemporaries, was born in London in a family with strict puritan leanings. His father was a man of culture and a classical scholar. He had him carefully schooled and tutored. Thomas Young was his first instructor. In 1623 he was sent to St. Paul’s school. After that, he …
I met a traveler from an antique landWho said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desert …. Near them, on the sand,Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,Tell that its sculptor well those passions readWhich yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,The hand that …
Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley (Critical Analysis) Read More »
First stanza That is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees – Those dying generations – at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unaging intellect. Second stanza An aged man …
