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Poetry Imp Lines (English Literature)

Poetry Imp Lines (English Literature)

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Published by L'Aurore
Hyperion Book I
Ode to Autumn
Ode to a Nightingale
Ode on a Grecian Urn

1. Philip Larkin
Mr. Bleaney
Church Going

2. Seamus Heaney
Personal Helicon
Tolland Man
A Constable Calls
Toome Road
Casting and Gathering

3. Ted Hughes
Thought Fox
That Morning
Full Moon and Freida
Hyperion Book I
Ode to Autumn
Ode to a Nightingale
Ode on a Grecian Urn

1. Philip Larkin
Mr. Bleaney
Church Going

2. Seamus Heaney
Personal Helicon
Tolland Man
A Constable Calls
Toome Road
Casting and Gathering

3. Ted Hughes
Thought Fox
That Morning
Full Moon and Freida

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Categories:Types, School Work
Published by: L'Aurore on Aug 05, 2014
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved


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 A poetry marked by understatement, classical restraint and a refusal to go beyond everyday reality.The Movement poets were considered anti-romantic, but we find many romantic elements in Larkin and Hughes. It was the revival of the importance of form; good poetry means simple, sensuous content, traditional, conventional and dignified form. The goal of
The Movement
 was to  write poetry that was anti-romantic and structured, avoiding poetry that was experimental in format and text. It was The Movement that sparked the division among different types of British poetry. Their poems were nostalgic for the former Britain and filled with pastoral images of the decaying way of life as Britain moved farther from the rural and more towards the urban. The
Irish Civil War
: (1922
 originated in the second half of the 18th century at the same time as the
French Revolution
KEATS (1795-1821)
―Keats is probably the only romantic poet apart
from Blake whose rank is conspicuously higher that it was in the 19
century.‖ Douglas Bush
..Comparable to Shakespeare’s sonnets
 "I have left no immortal work behind me
 nothing to make my friends proud of my memory
 but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered."
..nothing startles me beyond the moment. The setting sun will always set me to rights, or if a sparrow come before my Window I take part in its
existence and pick about the gravel.‖
―Negative Capability is term to discuss the state in
 we are ―capable of being in uncertainties,
Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact & reason.... ...[being] content with half knowledge" where one trusts in the heart's
perceptions.‖ ―His Odes have an underlying unity. They portray a
common attitude towards life and revolve around a single central mood. They are different phases of a single experience.
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close  bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
…Sometimes whoever seeks abroad
may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
 Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too
Elgin Marbles (Parthenon sculptures) Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express  A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard  Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair
 Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed  Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, For ever panting, and for ever young;  All breathing human passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,  A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe/Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,
that is all/Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know
―…a serious blemish on a beautiful
poem; and the reason must be either that I fail to understand it, or
that it is a statement which is untrue‖ Eliot
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,  And with thee fade away into the forest dim
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget  What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret
 Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,  Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies
 Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow
 Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self  Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well  As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf
 Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:
Do I wake or sleep?
Non sentimental, withdrawn, matter of fact tone is hallmark of his poetry. Human life, its predicament, the disappointment, disillusionment are recurring themes. Agnostic approach played a pivotal role in shaping his personality and poetry simultaneously.
―Deprivation is for me what daffodils were for  Wordsworth.‖
―I have a sense of melancholy isolation, life rapidly  vanishing, all that usual things‖
CHURCH GOING (1954) The Less Deceived (TLD)
…Once I am sure there's nothing going on
/I step inside, letting the door thud shut.
…I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence,
/Reflect the place was not worth stopping for.  Yet stop I did: in fact I often do,  And always end much at a loss like this,  Wondering what to look for; wondering, too,  When churches will fall completely out of use
…Shall we avoid them as unlucky places?
…And what remains when disbelief has gone?
…I wonder who
  Will be the last, the very last, to seek This place for what it was;
…A serious house on serious earth it is
…And t
hat much never can be obsolete, Since someone will forever be surprising  A hunger in himself to be more serious,  And gravitating with it to this ground,
BLEANEY (1955 TWW) Circumstantial
So it happens that I lie  Where Mr Bleaney lay, and stub my fags On the same saucer-souvenir, and try Stuffing my ears with cotton-wool, to drown The jabbering set he egged her on to buy.
…Telling himself that this was home, and grinned
…That how we live measures our own nature,
  And at his age having no more to show Than one hired box should make him pretty sure He warranted no better, I don't know.
Closed like confessionals, they thread Loud noons of cities, giving back None of the glances they absorb.
…They come to rest at any kerb:
  All streets in time are visited.
…The trafic parts to let go by 
 Brings closer what is left to come,  And dulls to distance all we are.
MCMXIV (1964) The Whitsun Weddings (TWW)
Those long uneven lines Standing as patiently  As if they were stretched outside The Oval or Villa Park,
…Never such innocence,
 Never before or since,  As changed itself to past  Without a word--the men Leaving the gardens tidy, The thousands of marriages Lasting a little while longer: Never such innocence again.
TED HUGHES (1930-1998) British Poet Laureate from 1984
―He wanted to capture not just live animals, but the
aliveness of animals in their natural state: their  wildness, their quiddity, the fox-ness of the fox and the crow-
ness of the crow.‖ Thomas Nye
…earlier poetic work is rooted in nature and, in
particular, the innocent savagery of animals, an interest from an early age. He wrote frequently of the mixture of beauty and violence in the natural  world. Animals serve as a metaphor for his view on life: animals live out a struggle for the survival of the fittest in the same way that humans strive for ascendancy and success. Examples can be seen in the poems "Hawk Roosting" and "Jaguar"
(Eliadean illud tempus moment) (Rf: Southern Alaska in Summer 1980) ..There the body Separated, golden and imperishable, From its doubting thought
 a spirit-beacon Lit by the power of the salmon That came on, came on, and kept on coming
…Lifting us toward some dazzle of blessing
 One wrong thought might darken. As if the fallen  World and salmon were over. As if these  Were the imperishable fish That had let the world pass away
…So we found the end of our journey.
 So we stood, alive in the river of light,  Among the creatures of light, creatures of light.
(The Hawk in the rain 1957)
I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
 Something else is alive
Beside the clock’s loneliness
  And this blank page where my fingers move.
…Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
 It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed.
Full Moon and Little Frieda
 A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket
  And you listening.  A spider's web, tense for the dew's touch.  A pail lifted, still and brimming
 mirror To tempt a first star to a tremor. ..The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a work That points at him amazed.
CHAUCER (1343-1400)
―Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote The
droghte of March hath perced to the root
e . . .‖

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