Waxing Poetic
Today is a very good day for poetry. The mention of Shakespeare at the end of drama got me thinking about his sonnets. So, of course, I had to dig out my "Treasury of Best-Loved Poems." Six of his sonnets are in there. While reading, I wondered how anyone could despise Shakespeare. (*cough*Pat*cough*) Just read this one. It's lovely.
#29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee- and then my state,
Like to the lark at the break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Doesn't it just make you feel all warm and fuzzy? I feel warm and fuzzy. And now, I believe I shall go read some more poetry before I go to sleep.
"Good night! Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight, 'til it be morrow!"
#29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee- and then my state,
Like to the lark at the break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Doesn't it just make you feel all warm and fuzzy? I feel warm and fuzzy. And now, I believe I shall go read some more poetry before I go to sleep.
"Good night! Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight, 'til it be morrow!"
posted by Shelty @ 6:51 PM
3 Comments:
At 6:46 PM,
Shelty said…
I suppose I can comment on my own post, so I feel loved. I know Pat read this, and said he didn't get anything from the poem.
You have no heart, Pat. :P
At 5:37 PM,
gregariousmime said…
Mmmm... Shakespeare...
Today is a good day for poetry. Because it is raining.
I like this one. Hehe, this is what happens when poets get competative:
Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,
But now my gracious numbers are decayed,
And my sick muse doth give an other place.
I grant (sweet love) thy lovely argument
Deserves the travail of a worthier pen,
Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent,
He robs thee of, and pays it thee again,
He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word,
From thy behaviour, beauty doth he give
And found it in thy cheek: he can afford
No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.
Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
Since what he owes thee, thou thy self dost pay.
At 5:39 PM,
Shelty said…
*drools*
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