# Your Favorite Passage of Poetry

**URL:** <https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116>\
**Category:** Cafe Society\
**Created:** [December 7, 2016, 4:10pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116 "2016-12-07T16:10:30Z")\
**Posts on this page:** 20\
**Page:** 7

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**Author:** ![Elendil\_s\_Heir](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/e/7cd45c/32.png) [@Elendil\_s\_Heir](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Elendil_s_Heir)\
**Post date:** [December 11, 2016, 2:31am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/121 "2016-12-11T02:31:29Z")

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William Wordsworth, “She was a Phantom of Delight”:

…\*The reason firm, the temperate will,  
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;  
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,  
To warn, to comfort, and command;  
And yet a Spirit still, and bright  
With something of angelic light. \*

---

<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![koeeoaddi](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/koeeoaddi/32/408_2.png) [@koeeoaddi](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/koeeoaddi)\
**Post date:** [December 11, 2016, 2:48am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/122 "2016-12-11T02:48:43Z")

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_A hell of a fat chance my orange bears had!_

[The Orange Bears](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/orange-bears), by Kenneth Patchen  
_Last night I paused at the edge of darkness,  
And slept with green dew, alone.  
I have come a long way, to surrender my shadow  
To the shadow of a horse._

[Sitting in a Small Screenhouse on a Summer Morning](http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2001/03/29), by James Wright

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![Elendil\_s\_Heir](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/e/7cd45c/32.png) [@Elendil\_s\_Heir](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Elendil_s_Heir)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 2:14am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/123 "2016-12-12T02:14:27Z")

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“Old Ironsides” by O.W. Holmes Sr.:

\*Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!  
Long has it waved on high,  
And many an eye has danced to see  
That banner in the sky;  
Beneath it rung the battle shout,  
And burst the cannon’s roar;—  
The meteor of the ocean air  
Shall sweep the clouds no more!

Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood  
Where knelt the vanquished foe,  
When winds were hurrying o’er the flood  
And waves were white below,  
No more shall feel the victor’s tread,  
Or know the conquered knee;—  
The harpies of the shore shall pluck  
The eagle of the sea!

O, better that her shattered hulk  
Should sink beneath the wave;  
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,  
And there should be her grave;  
Nail to the mast her holy flag,  
Set every thread-bare sail,  
And give her to the god of storms,—  
The lightning and the gale!\*

Background: [Old Ironsides (poem) - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Ironsides_(poem))

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![Baker](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/b/bb73d2/32.png) [@Baker](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Baker)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 2:25am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/124 "2016-12-12T02:25:46Z")

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A high school here in town has, as on of it’s flagpoles, a mast from the USS Constitution. They are very proud of it, and though that school was my school’s arch rival, I envy them that mast.

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**Author:** ![Gyrate](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/gyrate/32/3588_2.png) [@Gyrate](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Gyrate)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 10:56am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/125 "2016-12-12T10:56:49Z")

</div>

I find [\*\*The Layers \*\*](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/54897)by \*\*Stanley Kunitz \*\*always strangely moving and inspiring. The images lose something out of context so here’s the whole thing:

\*I have walked through many lives,  
some of them my own,  
and I am not who I was,  
though some principle of being  
abides, from which I struggle  
not to stray.

When I look behind,  
as I am compelled to look  
before I can gather strength  
to proceed on my journey,  
I see the milestones dwindling  
toward the horizon  
and the slow fires trailing  
from the abandoned camp-sites,  
over which scavenger angels  
wheel on heavy wings.

Oh, I have made myself a tribe  
out of my true affections,  
and my tribe is scattered!  
How shall the heart be reconciled  
to its feast of losses?  
In a rising wind  
the manic dust of my friends,  
those who fell along the way,  
bitterly stings my face.

Yet I turn, I turn,  
exulting somewhat,  
with my will intact to go  
wherever I need to go,  
and every stone on the road  
precious to me.  
In my darkest night,  
when the moon was covered  
and I roamed through wreckage,  
a nimbus-clouded voice  
directed me:  
“Live in the layers,  
not on the litter.”

Though I lack the art  
to decipher it,  
no doubt the next chapter  
in my book of transformations  
is already written.  
I am not done with my changes.\*

---

<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![PatrickLondon](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/patricklondon/32/4422_2.png) [@PatrickLondon](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/PatrickLondon)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 11:49am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/126 "2016-12-12T11:49:05Z")

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One for atmosphere, from Rudyard Kipling:

_They shut the road through the woods  
Seventy years ago.  
Weather and rain have undone it again,  
And now you would never know  
There was once a road through the woods  
Before they planted the trees.  
It is underneath the coppice and heath  
And the thin anemones.  
Only the keeper sees  
That, where the ring-dove broods,  
And the badgers roll at ease,  
There was once a road through the woods.  
Yet, if you enter the woods  
Of a summer evening late,  
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools  
Where the otter whistles his mate,  
(They fear not men in the woods,  
Because they see so few.)  
You will hear the beat of a horse’s feet,  
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,  
Steadily cantering through  
The misty solitudes,  
As though they perfectly knew  
The old lost road through the woods …  
But there is no road through the woods._

One for “interesting times”, by Thomas Hardy:

- I  
Only a man harrowing clods  
In a slow silent walk  
With an old horse that stumbles and nods  
Half asleep as they stalk.

Only thin smoke without flame  
From the heaps of couch-grass;  
Yet this will go onward the same  
Though Dynasties pass.

```
                   III

```

Yonder a maid and her wight  
Come whispering by:  
War’s annals will cloud into night  
Ere their story die.\*

One for passion, by John Donne:

\*I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I  
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?  
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?  
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?  
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.  
If ever any beauty I did see,  
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.

And now good-morrow to our waking souls,  
Which watch not one another out of fear;  
For love, all love of other sights controls,  
And makes one little room an everywhere.  
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,  
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,  
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,  
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;  
Where can we find two better hemispheres,  
Without sharp north, without declining west?  
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;  
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I  
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.\*

And for reflection, this brief quotation from TS Eliot’s _Little Gidding_:

\*We shall not cease from exploration  
And the end of all our exploring  
Will be to arrive where we started  
And know the place for the first time. \*

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![panache45](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/panache45/32/64_2.png) [@panache45](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/panache45)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 12:31pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/127 "2016-12-12T12:31:36Z")

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When I was about 11, I was going to a theatre-arts day camp, and one of my classes was Oral Interpretation. I had to memorize “Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold. It’s not my favorite poem, but after 60 years, I still have it memorized.  
\*The sea is calm tonight.  
The tide is full, the moon lies fair  
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light  
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,  
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.  
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!  
Only, from the long line of spray  
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,  
Listen! you hear the grating roar  
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,  
At their return, up the high strand,  
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,  
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring  
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago  
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought  
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow  
Of human misery; we  
Find also in the sound a thought,  
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith  
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore  
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.  
But now I only hear  
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,  
Retreating, to the breath  
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear  
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true  
To one another! for the world, which seems  
To lie before us like a land of dreams,  
So various, so beautiful, so new,  
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,  
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;  
And we are here as on a darkling plain  
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,  
Where ignorant armies clash by night.  
\*

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**Author:** ![Theodore\_Striker](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/t/74df32/32.png) [@Theodore\_Striker](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Theodore_Striker)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 3:59pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/128 "2016-12-12T15:59:30Z")

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> [@Ukulele\_Ike](#):
>
> Nice to see **Robinson Jeffers** in a thread like this. I love his work, and he seems largely forgotten.

Agreed, that is a wonderful and simple and elegant poem.

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**Author:** ![Theodore\_Striker](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/t/74df32/32.png) [@Theodore\_Striker](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Theodore_Striker)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 4:05pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/129 "2016-12-12T16:05:30Z")

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> [@crucible](#):
>
> Song lyric writers should not be ignored

I debated on including some, but there are other threads for song lyrics I think. Often they are one in the same though, and James Taylor knew what he was doing with a pen and paper.

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**Author:** ![TubaDiva](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/tubadiva/32/507_2.png) [@TubaDiva](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/TubaDiva)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 4:44pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/130 "2016-12-12T16:44:42Z")

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This was my grandmother’s favorite poem; she learned it as a child and could recite the entire thing for all her life.

\*To him who in the love of Nature holds  
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks  
A various language; for his gayer hours  
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile  
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides  
Into his darker musings, with a mild  
And healing sympathy, that steals away  
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts  
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight  
Over thy spirit, and sad images  
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,  
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,  
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—  
Go forth, under the open sky, and list  
To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—  
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—  
Comes a still voice—  
\*  
_[Thanatopsis](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/50465)_ by William Cullen Bryant

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**Author:** ![TubaDiva](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/tubadiva/32/507_2.png) [@TubaDiva](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/TubaDiva)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 4:51pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/131 "2016-12-12T16:51:48Z")

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And here is one of mine. From the uncapitalized pen of don marquis:

_it is better to be a part of beauty  
for one instant and then cease to  
exist than to exist forever  
and never be a part of beauty …_

[the lesson of the moth](http://www.donmarquis.org/themoth.htm)

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**Author:** ![Czarcasm](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/czarcasm/32/4050_2.png) [@Czarcasm](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Czarcasm)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 5:40pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/132 "2016-12-12T17:40:00Z")

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Kipling’s “If” is high up there on my list…but “The Sergeant’s Weddin’” will always be my favorite:

\*‘E was warned agin’ 'er –  
That’s what made ‘im look;  
She was warned agin’ 'im –  
That is why she took.  
'Wouldn’t 'ear no reason,  
‘Went an’ done it blind;  
We know all about 'em,  
They’ve got all to find!

Cheer for the Sergeant’s weddin’ –  
Give 'em one cheer more!  
Grey gun-‘orses in the lando,  
An’ a rogue is married to a whore!\*

[The whole poem](http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/sergeants_weddin.html), and the same [put to music.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT-5UJFgvco)

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![DesertDog](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/desertdog/32/11503_2.png) [@DesertDog](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/DesertDog)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 6:21pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/133 "2016-12-12T18:21:29Z")

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On the premise that anything the Bard wrote is poetry, I bring you the St. Crispin’s Day speech from _Henry V_:

[Branagh’s version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-yZNMWFqvM)

And for somebody you’ve never heard of, Forging by J.M. Gerlinsky

\*Pulled from the heart of the forge’s fire,  
the raw iron waits.  
Incandesence placed on the anvil,  
throwing circles of heat and light,  
pushes back the nights deep dark.

Swiftly the hammer in the hand of the smith,  
with a steady even measured blow,  
a raw form begins to grow.\*

The whole thing [here](http://anvilfire.com/article.php?bodyName=/21centbs/stories/forging_poem.htm). He’s an artisan smith so he knows what he is talking about.

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**Author:** ![jaycat](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/jaycat/32/3015_2.png) [@jaycat](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/jaycat)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 7:50pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/134 "2016-12-12T19:50:04Z")

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No love for Bobby Burns?!?

To A Mountain Daisy

On Turning One Down with the Plow, in April, 1786

Wee, modest, crimson-tippèd flow’r,  
Thou’s met me in an evil hour;  
For I maun crush amang the stoure  
Thy slender stem:  
To spare thee now is past my pow’r,  
Thou bonie gem.

Alas! it’s no thy neibor sweet,  
The bonie lark, companion meet,  
Bending thee ‘mang the dewy weet  
Wi’ spreck’d breast,  
When upward-springing, blythe, to greet  
The purpling east.

Cauld blew the bitter-biting north  
Upon thy early, humble birth;  
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth  
Amid the storm,  
Scarce rear’d above the parent-earth  
Thy tender form.

The flaunting flowers our gardens yield  
High shelt’ring woods an’ wa’s maun shield:  
But thou, beneath the random bield  
O’ clod or stane,  
Adorns the histie stibble-field  
Unseen, alane.

There, in thy scanty mantle clad,  
Thy snawie-bosom sun-ward spread,  
Thou lifts thy unassuming head  
In humble guise;  
But now the share uptears thy bed,  
And low thou lies!

Such is the fate of artless maid,  
Sweet flow’ret of the rural shade!  
By love’s simplicity betray’d  
And guileless trust;  
Till she, like thee, all soil’d, is laid  
Low i’ the dust.

Such is the fate of simple bard,  
On life’s rough ocean luckless starr’d!  
Unskilful he to note the card  
Of prudent lore,  
Till billows rage and gales blow hard,  
And whelm him o’er!

Such fate to suffering Worth is giv’n,  
Who long with wants and woes has striv’n,  
By human pride or cunning driv’n  
To mis’ry’s brink;  
Till, wrench’d of ev’ry stay but Heav’n,  
He ruin’d sink!

Ev’n thou who mourn’st the Daisy’s fate,  
That fate is thine—no distant date;  
Stern Ruin’s ploughshare drives elate,  
Full on thy bloom,  
Till crush’d beneath the furrow’s weight  
Shall be thy doom.

---

<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![Corner\_Case](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/corner_case/32/234_2.png) [@Corner\_Case](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Corner_Case)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 7:54pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/135 "2016-12-12T19:54:09Z")

</div>

> [@Edgar Allen Poe's - The Raven](#):
>
> And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain  
> Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before

In 7th grade we had to choose a poem to memorize and recite. I chose “The Raven” by Poe. Daunting, and I stumbled a bit, but did it. Every twist and turn of thought is explored as he works his way down into madness.

> [@Chaucer's Prologue](#):
>
> Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote  
> The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,  
> And bathed every veyne in swich licour  
> Of which vertu engendred is the flour

I also heard a recording of this in 7th grade. Such fun to imagine the language then. When we met, it was something my wife and I had in common.

> [@H.P.Lovecraft](#):
>
> That is not dead which can eternal lie,  
> And with strange aeons even death may die

Take take the eternal … And transcend it …

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![MacLir](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/m/9e8a1a/32.png) [@MacLir](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/MacLir)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 8:46pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/136 "2016-12-12T20:46:13Z")

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Many favorites already mentioned, but I’ll add this:

The wind was a torrent of darkness  
As it poured through the gusty trees  
The Moon was a ghostly galleon  
Tossed upon cloudy seas  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight  
Over the purple moor  
And a highwayman came riding  
Riding, riding  
Up to the old inn door

_Alfred Noyes_

And a nod to Kipling:

The engine room is a temple raised  
To the God of the engineer!

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![Bricker](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/b/977dab/32.png) [@Bricker](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Bricker)\
**Post date:** [December 12, 2016, 9:41pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/137 "2016-12-12T21:41:13Z")

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Wallace Stevens’ eloquent observation that the possibility of loss is what makes things valuable:

> [@](#):
>
> Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,  
> Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams  
> And our desires. Although she strews the leaves  
> Of sure obliteration on our paths,  
> The path sick sorrow took, the many paths  
> Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love  
> Whispered a little out of tenderness,  
> She makes the willow shiver in the sun  
> For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze  
> Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.  
> She causes boys to pile new plums and pears  
> On disregarded plate. The maidens taste  
> And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.

---

<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![Theodore\_Striker](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/t/74df32/32.png) [@Theodore\_Striker](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Theodore_Striker)\
**Post date:** [December 13, 2016, 3:56pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/138 "2016-12-13T15:56:46Z")

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[quote=“MacLir, post:136, topic:774116”]

Many favorites already mentioned, but I’ll add this:

The wind was a torrent of darkness  
As it poured through the gusty trees  
The Moon was a ghostly galleon  
Tossed upon cloudy seas  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight  
Over the purple moor  
And a highwayman came riding  
Riding, riding  
Up to the old inn door

_Alfred Noyes_

Man, that is really well done, intense and foreboding.

I really do enjoy that this thread has been a mix of classics and lesser known pieces. The formality of the classics seems to drive so many people away from poetry, and this thread has proven that formal language and structure is not necessary to touch the souls of the reader.

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![MacLir](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/m/9e8a1a/32.png) [@MacLir](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/MacLir)\
**Post date:** [December 13, 2016, 6:33pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/139 "2016-12-13T18:33:30Z")

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Before someone else slams me on it. :o

Re-reading it, I notice I left a line out of Noyes “The Highwayman”. :smack:

Should be:  
“A highwayman came riding,  
Riding, riding.  
A highwayman came riding,  
Up to the old inn door.”

There are several YouTube renditions of this, but I couldn’t find the one I saw once in 3D animation, which I wanted to link. ☹

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<div class="post-metadata">

**Author:** ![DaphneBlack](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/daphneblack/32/5389_2.png) [@DaphneBlack](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/DaphneBlack)\
**Post date:** [December 14, 2016, 4:20pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/your-favorite-passage-of-poetry/774116/140 "2016-12-14T16:20:19Z")

</div>

> [@Theodore\_Striker](#):
>
> I really do enjoy that this thread has been a mix of classics and lesser known pieces. The formality of the classics seems to drive so many people away from poetry, and this thread has proven that formal language and structure is not necessary to touch the souls of the reader.

But perhaps also that form/structure _can_ touch the soul? Just have to stick up for formal poetry one more time.

> [@Bricker](#):
>
> Wallace Stevens’ eloquent observation that the possibility of loss is what makes things valuable:

I haven’t seen this one before. Lovely, thanks!

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