Joodles thanks and I loved Roseanne's saying !!
I wonder if o're is one of those in List of Words Never To Be Used in Poems
?
P somewhere o're the rainbow
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
Behalf Of Judy Prince
Sent: 13 August 2008 14:44
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: pat snap ^_^_^ Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Consider, as well, John Wilmot's "Love and Life":
All my past life is mine no more,
The flying hours are gone:
Like transitory Dreams giv'n o're,
Whose Images are kept in store,
By Memory alone.
The Time that is to come is not;
How can it then be mine?
The present Moment's all my Lot,
And that, as fast as it is got,
Phyllis, is only thine.
Then talk not of Inconstancy,
False Hearts, and broken Vows;
If I, by Miracle, can be
This live-long Minute true to thee,
'Tis all that Heav'n allows.
His lover, Phyllis, is not pleased with his "Inconstancy" and "broken Vows".
Re his "A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover", it's not difficult,
then, to understand that the poem was written by a man.
I'm reminded of Roseanne Barr's saying: "You can tell that maps were
invented by men----each inch equals a mile."
Judy
2008/8/13 David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]>
> Well, Patrick, there is only one answer to this, from Milud Rochester,
> the best poem he ever wrote, I reckon (apparently you can
> conversationly refer to an Earl by his title with a form of the word
> 'Lord' so it doesn't +have+ to be My Lord Wilmot )
>
>
> A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover
>
> Ancient Person, for whom I
> All the flattering youth defy,
> Long be it e'er thou grow old,
> Aching, shaking, crazy cold;
> But still continue as thou art,
> Ancient Person of my heart.
>
> On thy withered lips and dry,
> Which like barren furrows lie,
> Brooding kisses I will pour,
> Shall thy youthful heart restore,
> Such kind show'rs in autumn fall,
> And a second spring recall;
> Nor from thee will ever part,
> Ancient Person of my heart.
>
> Thy nobler parts, which but to name
> In our sex would be counted shame,
> By ages frozen grasp possest,
> From their ice shall be released,
> And, soothed by my reviving hand,
> In former warmth and vigour stand.
> All a lover's wish can reach,
> For thy joy my love shall teach;
> And for thy pleasure shall improve
> All that art can add to love.
> Yet still I love thee without art,
> Ancient Person of my heart.
>
> Lord John Wilmot
>
>
> 2008/8/13 Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]>:
> > CLEAR OUT
> >
> > when he
> > her ancient
> > doddering
> > pensioner husband
> > actually got it together
> > to clear out his old junk
> > books toys trainers
> > old medals birds eggs
> > rotting' Boys Owns'
> > gasmasks tin helmets
> > stamp collections
> > wisdens 1953 etc etc
> > in great heaps
> > all his effects of years
> > she was impressed
> > but less so
> > when he ran off
> > on his 1967
> > BSA motor bike
> > with that 1973 blonde
> > from down the road
> > without even
> > saying goodbye
> >
> >
> > pmcmanus
> > raynesparkuk
> > q301
> > still playing with this
> >
>
>
>
> --
> David Bircumshaw
> Website and A Chide's Alphabet
> http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/
> The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
> Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.co.uk
>
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