tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post134425131696320149..comments2024-03-23T20:37:37.891-07:00Comments on First Known When Lost: DaffodilsStephen Pentzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-55420702065084487822015-02-20T01:59:14.191-08:002015-02-20T01:59:14.191-08:00Anonymous: Thank you for sharing those lines. I ...Anonymous: Thank you for sharing those lines. I agree: beautiful. And they make me look forward to full spring (and summer). Thanks again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-16918555872653376142015-02-20T01:56:48.617-08:002015-02-20T01:56:48.617-08:00Mr Medlin: Thank you very much for your kind word...Mr Medlin: Thank you very much for your kind words, and for your thoughts about Herrick and Hardy. <br /><br />I agree that both of them sought to respond to the world in an immediate fashion, which perhaps led to the voluminousness of their poetry. (Although, as you know, one of Herrick's strengths is his pithiness. Nobody wrote as many two-line poems!) I understand what you mean about the "stream of consciousness" element in Hardy's poetry. However, I am also mindful of the fact that a great deal of Hardy's poetry is a revisitation of his past. After all, he said that he could recall with crystal clarity a small incident that occurred 40 years previously. And, of course, the traditional poetic forms and meters employed by Hardy and Herrick provide a discipline that is absent from "stream of consciousness" as the Modernists employ it.<br /><br />Again, thank you very much for sharing your thoughts.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-6682604470748468062015-02-19T20:15:27.828-08:002015-02-19T20:15:27.828-08:00No daffodils in the following lines from A Midsumm...No daffodils in the following lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream, but, if we are talking about flowers, can we find more beautiful poetry than this (my God, these four lines can take a man's breath away):<br /><br />I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, <br />Where oxslips and the nodding violet grows, <br />Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, <br />With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-77444991274004069072015-02-19T09:03:58.175-08:002015-02-19T09:03:58.175-08:00I've only just seen this post, for which thank...I've only just seen this post, for which thanks. It's quite some time since I last read Herrick. Apropos one of your recent posts, I have been reading Thomas Hardy, 'wading' through his over 900 poems (crickey). Reading your Herrick post made me think immediately (possibly I'm way behind many other people here) that he and Hardy are similar poets in that they both responded immediately to what they had seen or thought and got the response down quickly into a poem. Herrick's collected poems are, after all, quite a doorstep of a book, just like Hardy's. The great difference between the two, of course, is that Herrick was, usually, of a much sunnier or phlegmatic disposition than Hardy who, despite his many protestations, let's face it, was gloomy, depressive and pessimistic! And still wrote wonderful poems. Indeed, it struck me the other day whilst reading Hardy, and now whilst reading Herrick, that they both anticipated the so-called modernist 'discovery' of stream of consciousness writing. What are Hardy's poems, in particular, but his non-stop stream of consciousness response to the phenomena, internal and external, of being in this world?<br /> Many thanks for your blogsite which I enjoy greatly.John Medlinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13895129397891151844noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-27219427872425747342015-02-18T22:10:11.873-08:002015-02-18T22:10:11.873-08:00R. T.: Thank you for the follow-up thought. You a...R. T.: Thank you for the follow-up thought. You are probably already familiar with it, but, if not, I recommend Lucy Newlyn's William and Dorothy Wordsworth: 'All in Each Other' (Oxford University Press 2013), which examines their creative partnership in interesting detail.<br /><br />Thanks again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-46084428362848765592015-02-18T19:27:56.930-08:002015-02-18T19:27:56.930-08:00Regarding Dorothy Wordsworth, I wholeheartedly agr...Regarding Dorothy Wordsworth, I wholeheartedly agree. I often somewhat pull the rug out from under Wordsworth by telling students -- with my tongue in cheek -- that Dorothy's brother plagiarized from his sister. :)R.T.https://www.blogger.com/profile/13220814349193561823noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-24504648042430513162015-02-18T19:25:20.693-08:002015-02-18T19:25:20.693-08:00R. T.: Thank you very much for stopping by, and f...R. T.: Thank you very much for stopping by, and for your thoughts. <br /><br />I agree: "I wandered lonely as a cloud" usually crosses my mind as well when I spot the first daffodils of the year. And I've learned in recent years that we need to give Dorothy Wordsworth credit for the role she played in inspiring her brother with her journal entry: "I never saw daffodils so beautiful they grew among the mossy stones about & about them, some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness & the rest tossed & reeled & danced & seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the Lake, they looked so gay ever glancing ever changing." <br /><br />Thanks again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-40004844586671382142015-02-18T19:13:54.697-08:002015-02-18T19:13:54.697-08:00Anonymous: Thank you for sharing Hughes's poem...Anonymous: Thank you for sharing Hughes's poem, which is new to me. I agree with you that his focus on the lost scissors is what gives the poem its impact, unexpectedly so. I like "baby-cries from the thaw,/Ballerinas too early for music."<br /><br />Thank you again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-59700735806759963662015-02-18T11:21:57.216-08:002015-02-18T11:21:57.216-08:00When I think of poetry and daffodils, I think of W...When I think of poetry and daffodils, I think of William Wordsworth's "I wandered lonely as a cloud." Thank you for helping me expand upon Wordsworth's daffodils.R.T.https://www.blogger.com/profile/13220814349193561823noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-1426965152444658402015-02-18T09:45:21.821-08:002015-02-18T09:45:21.821-08:00Ted Hughes writes a poignant poem about his dead w...Ted Hughes writes a poignant poem about his dead wife and him collecting daffodils when they were young, newly married. Pertinent to your post? Perhaps not. It's interesting how the mind of a poet works: Hughes notes correctly that the daffodils spring from the earth every March, but they lift themselves with no knowledge of the woman who once snipped them with her scissors. Then following hard up this observation he says that the lost scissors do remember--and we readers find no contradiction at all. <br /><br />Daffodils<br /><br />We piled their frailty lights on a carpenter’s bench,<br />Distributed leaves among the dozens -<br />Buckling blade-leaves, limber, groping for air, zinc-silvered -<br />Propped their raw butts in bucket water,<br />Their oval, meaty butts,<br />And sold them, sevenpence a bunch -<br /><br />Wind-wounds, spasms from the dark earth,<br />With their odourless metals,<br />A flamy purification of the deep grave’s stony cold<br />As if ice had a breath -<br /><br />We sold them, to wither.<br />The crop thickened faster than we could thin it.<br />Finally, we were overwhelmed<br />And we lost our wedding-present scissors.<br /><br />Every March since they have lifted again<br />Out of the same bulbs, the same<br />Baby-cries from the thaw,<br />Ballerinas too early for music, shiverers<br />In the draughty wings of the year.<br />On that same groundswell of memory, fluttering<br />They return to forget you stooping there<br />Behind the rainy curtains of a dark April,<br />Snipping their stems.<br /><br />But somewhere your scissors remember. Wherever they are.<br />Here somewhere, blades wide open,<br />April by April<br />Sinking deeper<br />Through the sod - an anchor, a cross of rust.<br />-Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-42592174434655598842015-02-17T22:29:50.448-08:002015-02-17T22:29:50.448-08:00Anonymous: Thank you for sharing the passage from ...Anonymous: Thank you for sharing the passage from Shakespeare, which is new to me. The high spirit of the lines is reminiscent of how Herrick can sound at times -- although, of course, Shakespeare is in a class of his own.<br /><br />Thanks again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-87160308156206964612015-02-17T09:53:11.055-08:002015-02-17T09:53:11.055-08:00Any avid reader of Shakespeare knows that "Th...Any avid reader of Shakespeare knows that "The Winter's Tale" is full of flowers. Perhaps the most famous passage is the song sung by Autolycus (for anyone interested another lovely passage about flowers is in Act IV SC. iv, beginning at line 113):<br /><br />When daffodils begin to peer, -- <br />With hey! The doxy over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o’ the year;<br />For the red blood reigns in the winter’s pale.<br /><br />The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, --<br />With hey! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! --<br />Doth set my pugging tooth on edge;<br />For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.<br /><br />The lark, that tirra-lirra chants, -- <br />With hey! with hey! the thrush and the jay, --<br />Are summer songs for me and for my aunts,<br /> While we lie tumbling in the hay.<br /><br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-85748073779310500082015-02-17T08:47:23.821-08:002015-02-17T08:47:23.821-08:00Ms White: I'm happy that you found your way he...Ms White: I'm happy that you found your way here, and I hope you'll return. I greatly appreciate your kind words. <br /><br />As far as being a "late comer" to poetry: it's never too late (as the saying goes). I hope that what you find here will encourage you to look further, both here and elsewhere.<br /><br />Thank you again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-60206759806317447122015-02-17T08:39:42.163-08:002015-02-17T08:39:42.163-08:00Mr Guerneri: Thank you very much for your kind wor...Mr Guerneri: Thank you very much for your kind words, and for visiting. It's always nice to hear that the poems I select may resonate with others as well. Thanks again.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-32794697437078370842015-02-17T06:17:17.123-08:002015-02-17T06:17:17.123-08:00I have only recently discovered your beautiful blo...I have only recently discovered your beautiful blog, and I am enjoying it immensely. I am a late comer to poetry. Thank you for sharing it here.Starr Whitehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01053440011702672296noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-47398501976297100152015-02-17T03:56:24.550-08:002015-02-17T03:56:24.550-08:00Thanks, your choice of poems is always surprising ...Thanks, your choice of poems is always surprising and interesting an so are your comments.<br />luca<br />(from Italy)luca guernerihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17270738082678674091noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-81900491049899074092015-02-16T09:10:35.534-08:002015-02-16T09:10:35.534-08:00Michael: I'm pleased you enjoyed the poems. ...Michael: I'm pleased you enjoyed the poems. As I mentioned in my reply to Mr Ashton, returning to Herrick's poetry is always a delight.<br /><br />I agree with you completely about the sensibility of haiku. As you know from reading my prior posts, I am very fond of haiku, precisely for the reasons you articulate.<br /><br />Thank you very much for stopping by again, and for sharing your thoughts.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-48737430968424229702015-02-16T09:00:52.702-08:002015-02-16T09:00:52.702-08:00Mr Ashton: It's a pleasure to hear from you a...Mr Ashton: It's a pleasure to hear from you again. I hadn't visited Herrick's poetry for a while, but the daffodils I saw brought these poems to mind. I have been enjoying him this past week. He is always a delight.<br /><br />Your walk sounds lovely. The crocuses over there are well ahead of ours.<br /><br />As ever, thank you very much for visiting, and for your thoughts.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-91456417491247330682015-02-16T06:41:33.131-08:002015-02-16T06:41:33.131-08:00Stephen -
A lovely collection of Herrick poems, t...Stephen -<br /><br />A lovely collection of Herrick poems, thank you for sharing them.<br /><br />What came to mind when reading them was not so much another poem as an entire different tradition. The haiku ideal of <i>mono no aware</i>, which Wikipedia has defined as 'the awareness of impermanence, or transience of things, and both a transient gentle sadness (or wistfulness) at their passing as well as a longer, deeper gentle sadness about this state being the reality of life.'Michaelnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-11426662812918737002015-02-16T01:50:20.459-08:002015-02-16T01:50:20.459-08:00Mr Pentz,
I've had a great affection for Herr...Mr Pentz, <br />I've had a great affection for Herrick's poetry for a many years. Thank you for reminding me to revisit him. I have'nt looked at his poetry for a while now.<br /><br />Yesterday I was walking through a local park and some woods. It was a beautiful day of almost cloudless blue skies and early Spring sunshine. There was a haze of tiny purple crocus covering a the grass in a clearing among the trees and the first daffodils nodding in the sunlight beside a fast flowing stream. A delightful day!<br />I agree with you that seasons are matters of emotion as well as dates on a calendar, and your phrase "internal weather" is perfect.<br /><br />Thanks you for continuing with such interesting posts. I always read them,though I may not always comment.John Ashtonnoreply@blogger.com