I have met in the streets a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences. Everything else in marriage is transitory. When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When we find someone with weirdness that is compatible with ours, we team up and call it love.
But when you fall in love, it is impossible to stand again. I have those things already. I want… a steady hand. A kind soul. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about. How glad we shall be, that we have somebody we are fond of always, to talk to and sit with. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things… all of it, all of the time, every day. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness. The best is yet to be.
All that we love deeply becomes a part of us. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable. Related: Good Morning Quotes. Scott Fitzgerald. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving.
It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.
It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. It erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.
Long Distance Poems for a Relative
And when it subsides, you have a to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. Because if you pick it up, it dies and it ceases to be what you love. So if you love a flower, let it be. Love is not about possession.
It is about appreciation. Related: 50 Winnie the Pooh Quotes.
Empty comment. You seem to be logged out. It then tantalizes us with a desire to experience the eternity of the beauty we create. But again, no real experience is possible to us—as the central stanzas suggest—apart from time and change.
Imagination seems to falsify: the more the poet presses the bird to contain, the more questionable this imaginative projection becomes. For Keats, an impatience for truth only obscures it. If art redeems experience at all it is in the beauty of a more profound comprehension of ourselves not of a transcendent realm , of the paradoxes of our nature. To expect art to provide a more certain closure is to invite only open questions or deeper enigmas.
In Ode on a Grecian Urn this theme is explored from the perspective not of a natural and fleeting experience the bird song but of a work of pictorial art, a timeless rendering of a human pageant. Perhaps more has been written on this poem, per line, than any other Romantic lyric. And today it is perhaps the best—known and most—often-read poem in nineteenth-century literature. The poem seems to be an imaginative creation of an artwork that serves as an image of permanence.
But it is in the nature of poetry, unlike painting—a distinction we know Keats often debated with Haydon—to create its meaning sequentially. Human happiness requires fulfillment in a world of process and inevitable loss. Others see the lines dissolving all doubts in an absolute aestheticism that declares the power of art to transform painful truths into beauty.
In the Ode on Melancholy the subject is not the ironies of our experience of art but of intense experience itself. Melancholy is not just a mood associated with sad objects; in this poem, it is the half-hidden cruel logic of human desire and fulfillment. In our temporal condition the most intense pleasure shades off into emptiness and the pain of loss, fulfillment even appearing more intense as it is more ephemeral. His maturing irony had developed into a re-evaluation and meditative probing of his earlier concerns, the relation of art and the work of imagination to concrete experience.
But the odes also show supreme formal mastery: from the play of rhyme his ode stanza is a brilliantly compressed yet flexible development from sonnet forms , to resonance of puns and woven vowel sounds, the form itself embodies the logic of a dialogue among conflicting and counterbalancing thoughts and intuitions.
The Love/Hate of Siblings
Keats considered giving poetry a last try, but returned all the books he had borrowed and thought of becoming a surgeon, perhaps on a ship. Keats was ill this summer with a sore throat, and it is likely that the early stages of tuberculosis were beginning. His letters to Fanny Brawne became jealous, even tormented. But throughout the summer he wrote with furious concentration, working on his rather bad verse tragedy Otho the Great , which Brown had concocted as a scheme to earn money, and completing Lamia , his last full-length poem.
A young man, Lycius, falls in love with a beautiful witch, Lamia, who is presented with real sympathy. She leads Lycius away from his public duties into an enchanted castle of love.
But at their marriage banquet Lamia withers and dies under the cold stare of the rationalist philosopher Apollonius, who sees through her illusion, and Lycius, too, dies as his dream is shattered. The issues, of course, recall The Eve of St. To many readers, it has seemed that these unresolvable ironies imply a bitterness about love and desire.
It is clear, though, that Keats sought to present his story without sentimentality or the lush beauty of romance. Yet Keats was striving for some sense of resolution in these months, as autumn approached. He turned back to Hyperion with the thought of justifying the life of the poet as both self-conscious and imaginative, committed to the real, public sphere even while his imagination soothes the world with its dreams.
This strange, troubling, visionary fragment, The Fall of Hyperion unpublished until , is his most ambitious attempt to understand the meaning of imaginative aspiration. It is a broad Dantesque vision, in which the poet himself is led by Moneta, goddess of knowledge, to the painful birth into awareness of suffering that had deified the poet-god Apollo in the earlier version.
Notably, the speaker here never appears as a subject, except implicitly as a calming presence, asking questions but allowing the sights, sounds, and activities of the season itself to answer them. But the intensity here, unlike that of Ode to Melancholy , does not end in extinction and painful memory.
Maya Angelou - Poems, Books & Quotes - Biography
Such subjectivity is avoided; the season is mythologized and imagined as herself a part of the rhythms of the year. Ay, where are they? He lived to see his new volume, which included the odes, published as Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems in early July The praise from Hunt, Shelley, Lamb, and their circle was enthusiastic. In August, Frances Jeffrey, influential editor of the Edinburgh Review , wrote a serious and thoughtful review, praising not just the new poems but also Endymion. The volume sold slowly but steadily and increasingly in the next months.
His odes were republished in literary magazines. But by summer , Keats was too ill to be much encouraged. In the winter of he nearly decided to give up poetry and write for some London review.
He was often confused and depressed, worried about money, often desperate with the pain of being unable to marry Fanny Brawne, to whom he became openly engaged about October. But Keats continued to prepare his poems for publication, and to work on The Fall of Hyperion and a new satiric drama, The Jealousies first published as The Cap and Bells , never completed.
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