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Medium 9781847770684

Prawning

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

in the meantime

(1996)

The Right Givers

Give me the honest benefactors who

Do not offer gifts

Out of duty but who clearly show

It delights them. How the darkness lifts

From my own sky when such guide me towards

Wild gardens where I can

Wander. Do not traffic with rewards

Or make me some rich prize but rather, then,

Invite me to take part in an event,

A music-party, say,

Of amateurs whose every instrument

Is gracious, equal too. And so, I pray,

If you are giving for reward elsewhere,

Do not come to me,

But if you’re gentle, show me that you share

Some need also and then your gift will be

Carefully chosen, not too large but full

Of some lack that you have

Which I can help to heal and make you whole,

Like shyness, dark moods, even lack of love.

Prawning

We went along because we trusted him,

Our grandfather, my mother’s father who

Taught us darts, setting us near the board.

And then his tall and steady strides were in

The rockpools, and he didn’t seem to need

His eyes. Something instinctive as the wind

Guided his tough net under every fringe

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Medium 9780856832468

9 A FRESH LYRICISM

Kenneth Verity Shepheard-Walwyn ePub

THE NAME Georgian came to be applied to a corpus of English poetry written, very broadly, between 1850 and 1950. The term was coined by Edward Marsh, a civil servant who, with Rupert Brooke, published a series of anthologies called Georgian Poetry, between 1912 and 1922. In retrospect, poets not included in the original collections are now seen also to have been writing in that genre, and in his Georgian Poetry (1962) James Reeves includes the following:

A.E. Housman

(1859-1936)

W.H. Davies

(1871-1940)

Walter de la Mare

(1873-1956)

John Masefield

(1878-1967)

Edward Thomas

(1878-1917)

Andrew Young

(1885-1971)

Siegfried Sassoon

(1886-1967)

Rupert Brooke

(1887-1915)

Victoria Sackville-West

(1892-1962)

Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918)

Robert Graves

(1895-1985)

Charles Sorley

(1895-1915)

Edmund Blunden

(1896-1974)

The description Georgian came, in due course, to be a term of disparagement, since the work of this time embodied the very elements that Symbolism and Imagism were setting out to countervail. The ordinary, unexceptional examples of Georgian verse were technically careless and loose, employing imprecise diction, facile rhythm, sentimentality and trivial or mundane themes, and showing a lack of direction. To this list, Edmund Blunden adds ‘languor and studied homeliness of expression’. At their best the Georgian poets have a warmth, a strength, and a beauty; some poems have an ingenuous air of innocence which was never quite recaptured.

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Medium 9781847770684

Comfort

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9781847770974

63 Motueka

Gallas, John Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9780253009517

Knee-Deep in June

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub
Medium 9781847770684

VI Invective against the People of Pistoja

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

V To Giovanni da Pistoja on the Painting of the Sistine Chapel

Like cats from Lombardy and other places

Stagnant and stale, I’ve grown a goitre here;

Under my chin my belly will appear,

Each the other’s rightful stance displaces.

My beard turns heavenward, my mind seems shut

Into a casket. With my breast I make

A shield. My brush moves quickly, colours break

Everywhere, like a street mosaic-cut.

My loins are thrust into my belly and

I use my bottom now to bear the weight

Of back and side. My feet move dumb and blind.

In front my skin is loose and yet behind

It stretches taut and smooth, is tight and straight.

I am a Syrian bow strained for the pull –

A hard position whence my art may grow.

Little, it seems, that’s strong and beautiful

Can come from all the pains I undergo.

Giovanni, let my dying art defend

Your honour, in this place where I am left

Helpless, unhappy, even of art bereft.

VI Invective against the People of Pistoja

I have received your word now twenty times,

Read it as many. May it do you good.

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Medium 9781847770684

For My Father Again, 1979 (GU, 2/8/11)

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

Bellow from the discothèque?

Warble through the dishevelled birds?

It’s our heritage, an ache

Beyond, behind the risk of words.

Why do we unmake

Pacific skies and Milky Ways?

There is something that I want,

There are valuables to choose,

Why does white so coldly haunt?

Who said both must lose?

The Drift

Music was my drift.

Never the voice only the revel of

Drum, flute, the theme that lifts

And hallows. There are harmonies for love,

Discords for argument, my score confides

In the stars’ discourse. It takes a tide’s

Enforcing power, it pleads

Only to celebrate. I can face death

If violins intercede.

I can enchant the dreadful announcements with

Consolations justified. There was

‘A music of the spheres.’ And here it is.

For My Father Again

I thought I’d set it right. A night ago,

When the stars flashed between the blows of wind,

I lay and the thought of you. Back came a row

About an art, the old excuse to find

Tactics and I learnt how,

No, felt (it was the senses caught me out)

We both had bleak battalions. No Man’s land

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Medium 9781847778512

Buzzard

Clarke, Gillian Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9781847770684

The Right Givers

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

in the meantime

(1996)

The Right Givers

Give me the honest benefactors who

Do not offer gifts

Out of duty but who clearly show

It delights them. How the darkness lifts

From my own sky when such guide me towards

Wild gardens where I can

Wander. Do not traffic with rewards

Or make me some rich prize but rather, then,

Invite me to take part in an event,

A music-party, say,

Of amateurs whose every instrument

Is gracious, equal too. And so, I pray,

If you are giving for reward elsewhere,

Do not come to me,

But if you’re gentle, show me that you share

Some need also and then your gift will be

Carefully chosen, not too large but full

Of some lack that you have

Which I can help to heal and make you whole,

Like shyness, dark moods, even lack of love.

Prawning

We went along because we trusted him,

Our grandfather, my mother’s father who

Taught us darts, setting us near the board.

And then his tall and steady strides were in

The rockpools, and he didn’t seem to need

His eyes. Something instinctive as the wind

Guided his tough net under every fringe

See All Chapters
Medium 9781574414479

Four Planes of Experience

Gibson Fay-LeBlanc University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781847770974

106 evolution extinguished

Gallas, John Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9781847770998

Coming to Mytilene

John Gallas Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

A coloured thought holds my eyelids down.

I wait, half-knowing what I wait for with no hope, before the shield-brass sea, and you are coming now, to bring me roses…

O heaven and sunset roses! O my roses!

Your Royal Youth Has the Sadness…

Your royal youth has the sadness of the North, where fog wipes colour out, you cross with tears faction and desire,

Hamlet-grave, and pale as Ophelia.

You pass, as she, in flarings of fair madness, lavishing songs and flowers, as he, beneath hurt-hiding pride, your still set stare, and its forgetting.

Smile, fair love, or dream, dark lover, your twofold self attracts, a double-magnet, and your flesh burns with the cold passion of a spill.

My unquiet heart is troubled when I see your rapt and Prince’s face, your pure blue eyes, now This, now That, and both in one.

Coming to Mytilene

Out of my deep past, I come back to you,

Mytilene, upon the play of centuries, and bring my fire, my youth, my faith, my love, like fairing spices,

Mytilene, along the play of centuries, out of my deep past, I come back to you.

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Medium 9781847770684

On Making

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

Yet must go deeper still, must move to love

Where thought is free to let the water ride,

Is liberal to the rose giving it life

And setting even its own shadow aside;

Till flower and water blend with freedom of

Passion that does not close them in and hide

Their deepest natures; but the heart is strong

To beat with rose and river in one song.

On Making

All you who build, whether the marvellous columns

Or the splendid stanza echoing itself,

Is there a place for you to stand and watch

And truthfully swear ‘My part in this is finished’

With a mind quite empty of its images

That fit best in another kind of freedom?

There is no place at all. Your satisfaction

Fails with the last brick laid, with the final word.

There is no place for minds to stand at ease

Nor any mood where passion may partake

Of stillness and be still. Move on, move out

Riding your mind with reckless animation.

Look there are men living within your houses,

Look there are minds moving through your poems,

Proving how much you left unmade, unsaid.

Your work is done yet there is no completion.

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Medium 9781574413090

Itinerant

Caki Wilkinson University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781847771322

Winter Mornings

Burt, Dan Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

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