Imagination poems
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Snow and Ice
© Quincy Troupe
ice sheets sweep this slick mirrored dark place
space as keys that turn in tight, trigger
The Comedian As The Letter C
© Wallace Stevens
379 Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
380 With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
381 No, no: veracious page on page, exact.
Yarrow Visited. September, 1814
© William Wordsworth
And is this--Yarrow?--This the streamOf which my fancy cherished,So faithfully, a waking dream?An image that hath perished!O that some Minstrel's harp were near,To utter notes of gladness,And chase this silence from the air,That fills my heart with sadness!
Yet why?--a silvery current flowsWith uncontrolled meanderings;Nor have these eyes by greener hillsBeen soothed, in all my wanderings
Influence of Natural Objects in Calling Forth and Strengthening the Imagination in Boyhood and Early Youth
© William Wordsworth
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!And giv'st to forms and images a breathAnd everlasting motion! not in vain,By day or star-light, thus from my first dawnOf childhood didst thou intertwine for meThe passions that build up our human soul;Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man;But with high objects, with enduring things,With life and nature; purifying thusThe elements of feeling and of thought,And sanctifying by such disciplineBoth pain and fear,--until we recogniseA grandeur in the beatings of the heart
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII [all 133 poems]
© Alfred Tennyson
[Preface] Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace,Believing where we cannot prove;
Richard II (excerpts): Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand
© William Shakespeare
Oh, who can hold a fire in his handBy thinking on the frosty Caucasus?Or cloy the hungry edge of appetiteBy bare imagination of a feast?Or wallow naked in December snowBy thinking on fantastic summer's heat?Oh no, the apprehension of the goodGives but the greater feeling to the worse;Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle moreThan when it bites but lanceth not the sore
A Midsummer Night's Dream (excerpts): Lovers and mad men have such seething brains
© William Shakespeare
Lovers and mad men have such seething brains,Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend moreThan cool reason ever comprehends
Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
Why do I feel guilty in the lingerie department at The Bay
© Holbrook Susan
After all, I'm a woman, I'm old enough to look casual in here, I'm in my prime, in fact: why not try on a few things, discuss sizes and wires with the clerk like it's nothing, a bit of a chore even, like shopping for sneakers
The Deserted Village, A Poem
© Oliver Goldsmith
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain,Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,And parting summer's lingering blooms delay'd:Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green,Where humble happiness endear'd each scene!How often have I paus'd on every charm,The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm,The never-failing brook, the busy mill,The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill,The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,For talking age and whisp'ring lovers made!How often have I blest the coming day,When toil remitting lent its turn to play,And all the village train, from labour free,Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;While many a pastime circled in the shade,The young contending as the old survey'd;And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground,And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;And still, as each repeated pleasure tir'd,Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspir'd;The dancing pair that simply sought renownBy holding out to tire each other down:The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love,The matron's glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like theseWith sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please:These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms--but all these charms are fled
Flying Deeper into the Century
© Pier Giorgio Di Cicco
Flying deeper into the centuryis exhilarating, the faces of loved ones eaten outslowly, the panhandles of flesh warding offthe air, the smiling plots
Watercolour for Negro Expatriates in France
© Clarke George Elliott
What are calendars to you?And, indeed, what are atlases? Time is cool jazz in Bretagne,you, hidden in berets or eccentric scarves,somewhere over the rainbow
Beauty Sat Bathing by a Spring
© Anonymous
Beauty sat bathing by a spring, Where fairest shades did hide her;The winds blew calm, the birds did sing, The cool streams ran beside her
The Pleasures of Imagination
© Mark Akenside
BOOK IOf Nature touches the consenting heartsOf mortal men; and what the pleasing storesWhich beauteous imitation thence derivesTo deck the poet's, or the painter's toil;My verse unfolds
