poem
If you have a couple of hours to spare, please read the following before coming to the talk.
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? a
Thou art more lovely and more temperate: b
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, a
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: b
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines c
And often is his gold complexion dimmed; d
And every fair from fair sometime declines, c
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed; d
But thy eternal summer shall not fade, e
Now lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; f
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, e
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: f
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, g
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. g
William Shakespeare (1564—1616)
On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold, a
And many goodly states and kingdom seen; b
Round many western islands have I been b
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. a
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told a
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne; b
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene b
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: a
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies c
When a new planet swims into his ken; d
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes c
He stared at the Pacific—and all his men d
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise— c
Silent, upon a peak in Darien. d
John Keats (1795—1821)
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know. a
His house is in the village, though; a
He will not see me stopping here b
To watch his woods fill up with snow. a
My little horse must think it queer b
To stop without a farmhouse near b
Between the woods and frozen lake c
The darkest evening of the year. b
He gives his harness bells a shake c
To ask if there is some mistake. c
The only other sound’s the sweep d
Of easy wind and downy flake. c
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, d
But I have promise to keep, d
And miles to go before I sleep, d
And miles to go before I sleep. d
Robert Frost (1874—1963)
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? a
Thou art more lovely and more temperate: b
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, a
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: b
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines c
And often is his gold complexion dimmed; d
And every fair from fair sometime declines, c
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed; d
But thy eternal summer shall not fade, e
Now lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; f
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade, e
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: f
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, g
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. g
William Shakespeare (1564—1616)
On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold, a
And many goodly states and kingdom seen; b
Round many western islands have I been b
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. a
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told a
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne; b
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene b
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: a
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies c
When a new planet swims into his ken; d
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes c
He stared at the Pacific—and all his men d
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise— c
Silent, upon a peak in Darien. d
John Keats (1795—1821)
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know. a
His house is in the village, though; a
He will not see me stopping here b
To watch his woods fill up with snow. a
My little horse must think it queer b
To stop without a farmhouse near b
Between the woods and frozen lake c
The darkest evening of the year. b
He gives his harness bells a shake c
To ask if there is some mistake. c
The only other sound’s the sweep d
Of easy wind and downy flake. c
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, d
But I have promise to keep, d
And miles to go before I sleep, d
And miles to go before I sleep. d
Robert Frost (1874—1963)
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