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    Sonnet 18 William Shakespeare

    ; Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? ; Thou art more lovely and more temperate : ; Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, ; And summer's lease hath all too short a date: ; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, ; And often is his gold complexion dimmed, ; And every fair from fair sometime declines, ; By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed: ; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, ; Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, ; Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade , ; When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st ,

    ; So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, ; So long lives this , and this gives life to thee. ; What makes the poet think that thou can be more



    ; Sonnet29 William Shakespeare

; When, in disgrace with fortune and mens eyes,

    ; I all alone beweep my outcast state,

    ; And trouble dead heaven with my bootless cries, ; And look upon myself, and curse my fate, ; Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, ; Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, ; Desiring this mans art and that mans scope,

    ; With what I most enjoy contented least; ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, ; Haply I think on theeand then my state,

    ; Like to the lark at break of day arising ; From sullen earth, sings hymns at heavens gate;

    ; For thy sweet love remembred such wealth brings

    ; That then I scorn to change my state with kings.


; Methought I Saw My Late Espoused Saint

    John Milton


    ; Methought I saw my late espoused saint

    ; Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, ; whom Joves great son to her glad husband gave, ; Rescued from death by force though pale and faint, ; Mine, as whom washed from spot of childbed taint, ; Purification in the old law did save,

    ; And such, as yet once more I trust to have ; Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, ; Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. ; Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight, ; Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined ; So clear, as in no face with more delight. ; But O, as to embrace me she inclined,

    ; I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.

; Sonnet from the Portuguese

    ; E.B. Browning

    ; How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. ; I love thee to the depth and breadth and height ; My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight, ; For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

    ; I love thee to the level of every days

    ; most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. ; I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; ; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise, ; I love thee with the passion put to use ; In my old griefs, and with my childhoods faith.

    ; I love thee with a love I seemed to lose ; With my lost saints,-- I love thee with the breath, ; Smiles, tears, of all my life:--and, if God choose, ; I shall but love thee better after death.


; Farewell~ Love

    ; Thomas Wyatt

    ; Farewell, love, and all thy laws forever, ; Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more; ; Senec and Plato call me from thy lore, ; To perfect wealth my wit for to endeavor. ; In blind error when I did persever,

    ; Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore, ; Hath taught me to set in trifles no store ; And scape forth since liberty is lever, ; Therefore farewell, go trouble younger hearts, ; And in me claim no more authority;

    ; With idle youth go use thy property,

    ; And thereon spend thy many brittle darts. ; For hitherto though I have lost all my time, ; Me lusteth no longer rotten boughs to climb.

    ; Composed upon Westminster Bridge ; William Wordsworth ; Earth has not anything to show more fair: ; Dull would he be of soul who could pass by ; A sight so touching in its majesty;

    ; This city now doth, like a garment, wear ; The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, ; Ships, towers, domes, theaters, and temples lie ; Open unto the fields, and to the sky; ; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. ; Never did sun more beautifully steep

    ; In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; ; Neer saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! ; The river glideth at his own sweet will: ; Dear God! The very houses seem asleep; ; And all that mighty heart is lying still.

    Further reading: Meeting at Night

     by Robert Browning

    ; The gray sea and the long black land;

    And the yellow half-moon large and low:

    And the startled little waves that leap


    In fiery ringlets from their sleep,

    As I gain the cove with pushing prow,

    And quench its speed i the slushy sand.

    Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;

    Three fields to cross till a farm appears;

    A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch

    And blue spurt of a lighted match,

    And a voice less loud, through joys and fears,

    Than the two hearts beating each to each!


    Parting at Morning By Robert Browning

    Round the cape of a sudden came the sea, 红岬见碧海

    ; And the sun looked over the mountains rim: 红日俯群山

    ; And straight was a path of gold for him, 金光大道直

    ; And the need of a world of men for me. 男儿志四方

; A Red, Red Rose

    ; Robert Burns ; O, my luves like a red, red rose,

    ; Thats newly sprung in June;

    ; O, my luves like the melodie

    ; Thats sweetly played in tune.

    ; As fair are thou, my bonnie lass,

    ; So deep in luve am I;

    ; And I will luve thee still, my dear, ; Till all the seas gang dry.

    ; Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, ; And the rocks melt with the sun:

    ; I will luve thee still, my dear,

    ; While the sands olife shall run.

    ; And fare thee weel, my only luve!

    ; And fare thee weel awhile!

    ; And I will come again, my luve,

    ; Though it were ten thousand mile.

    Get Up and Bar the Door

    ; It feel about the Martinmas time, (圣马丁节;

    ; And a gay time it was then,


    ; When our goodwife got puddings to make, ; And shes boiled them in the pan.

    ; The wind so cold blew south and north, ; And blew into the floor;

    ; Quoth our goodman (husband) to our good housewife,

    ; Go out and bar the door.

; “ My hand is in my hussyfscap,

    ; Goodman, as ye may see;

    ; If it should not be barrd this hundred year, ; Its not be barrd by me.

    ; They made a paction tween them two,

    ; They made it firm and sure, ; That the first word whoeer should speak, ; Should rise and bar the door.

    ; Then by there came two gentlemen, ; At twelve oclock at night,

    ; And they could neither see house nor ball,

    ; Nor coal, nor candlelight.

; “Now whether is this a rich man‟s house,

    ; Or whether is it a poor?

    ; But neer a word would one of them speak, ; For barring of the door.

    ; And first they ate white puddings, ; And then they ate the black: ; Thomuch thought the goodwife to herself, ; Yet neer a word she spake.

    ; Then said the one unto the other, ; “ Here, man, take ye my knife;

    ; You Take off the old mans beard,

    ; And Ill kiss the goodwife.

; “But there‟s no water in the house,

    ; And what shall we do then?

    ; “ What ails ye at the pudding broth,

    ; That boils into the pan?

    ; O, up then started our goodman, ; An angry man was he;

    ; “ Will ye kiss my wife before my eye,

    ; And scald me with pudding-broth?


    ; O, up then started our goodwife,

    ; Made three skips on the floor;

    ; “Goodman, you‟ve spoken the foremost word;

    ; Get up and bar the door.

    ; Blank verse: Blank verse is unrhymed poetry, typically in iambic pentameter, and, as

    such, the dominant verse form of English dramatic and narrative poetry since the

    mid-16th century. Blank verse is not written in stanza form. Instead, the poem is

    developed in verse paragraphs that vary in length. Blank verse is a flexible form of

    expression that gives the poet a choice of many variations within the metrical pattern.

    Because of its flexibility, blank verse is especially appropriate for narrative and dramatic

    poetry and other longer kinds of poetry. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, adapted blank

    verse from Italian poetry to English in the early 1500s. Christopher Marlowe and

    Shakespeare used this form with great power and variety in their plays. Many poets of the

    1800s and 1900s wrote in blank verse. They include William Wordsworth, William

    Cullen Bryant, John Keats, Lord Tennyson, Edwin Arlington Robinson, Robert Frost, and

    Wallace Stevens.

    Hamlet?To be, or not to be-that is the question:

     Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

     The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

     Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

     And by opposing end them. To die-to sleep-

     No more; and by a sleep to say we end

     The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

     That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation

     Devoutly to be wish'd. To die-to sleep.

     To sleep- perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub!

     For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

     When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

     Must give us pause. There's the respect

     That makes calamity of so long life.

     For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

     Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

    The pangs of despisd love, the laws delay,

    The insolence of office, and the spurns

    That patient merit of th unworthy takes,

    When he himself might his quietus make

    With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,

    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

    But that the dread of something after death-

    The undiscoverd country, from whose bourn


    No traveller returns-puzzles the will,

    And makes us rather bear those ills we have

    Than fly to others that we know not of?

    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

    And thus the native hue of resolution

    Is sicklied oer with the pale cast of thought,

    And enterprises of great pitch and moment

    With this regard their currents turn awry

    And lose the name of action .


    ; It refers to the school of poets that appeared in the revolutionary period in England by

    using quite unconventional and often surprising conceits; the metaphysical poets wrote

    poems full of wit and humor. But sometimes the logic argument and conceits become

    pervasive, going to preposterous dimensions. The language is colloquial but very

    powerful, creating unorthodox images on the readers mind. John Donne and Andrew

    Marvell are the representative metaphysical poets.

    Conceit: 奇想?别出心裁的比喻。:爱情比作坟墓、太阳、海洋


    From the Italian concetto, concept or idea; used in renaissance poetry to mean a precise

    and detailed comparison of something more remote or abstract with something more present or concrete, and often detailed through a chain of metaphors or similes. In Petrarchan poetry, certain conceits became conventionalized and were used again and again in various versions. The connection between the Ladys eyes and the Sun, so typical of these, was based on the proportion her gaze: loves life and day; suns shining; worlds life and daylight. Conceits were closely

    linked to emblems, to the degree that verbal connection between the emblem picture and its meaning, was detailed in an interpretative conceit

    ; The Flea by John Donne

    ; Mark but this flea, and mark in this,

    ; How little that which thou deniest me is;

    ; Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee,

    ; And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;

    ; Thou knowst that this cannot be said

    ; A sin, or shame, or loss of maidenhead,

    ; Yet this enjoys before it woo,

    ; And pampered swells with one blood made of two,

    ; And this, alas, is more than we would do.


    ; Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,


    ; Where we almost, nay more than married are. ; This flea is you and I, and this

    ; Our marriage bed and marriage temple is; ; Though parents grudge, and you, we are met, ; And cloistered in these living walls of jet. ; Though use make you apt to kill me, ; Let not to that, self-murder added be, ; And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. ; Cruel and sudden, hast thou since

    ; Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? ; Wherein could this flea guilty be,

    ; Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? ; Yet thou triumpst, and sayst that thou

    ; Find'st not thy self nor me the weaker now; ; „Tis true; then learn how false fears be:

    ; Just so much honor, when thou yield'st to me, ; Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.

    ; Questions:

    ; 1.Why does the poet say that this cannot be said a sin, or shame, or loss of


    ; 2.What do you think is the addressees parents attitude toward the poets wooing? ; 3.What is the real purpose of the poet to say that in killing the flea thou are actually

    killing three lives?

; Song

    ; John Donne ; Go, and catch a falling star,

    ; Get with child a mandrake root,

    ; Tell me, where all past years are,

    ; Or who cleft the Devils foot,

    ; Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

    ; Or to keep off envys stinging,

    ; And find

    ; What wind

    ; Serves to advance an honest mind.

    ; It thou beest born to strange sights, ; Things invisible to see,

    ; Ride ten thousand days and nights,

    ; Till age snow white hairs on thee,

    ; Thou, when thou returnst, wilt tell me


    ; All strange wonders that befell thee, ; And swear

    ; No where

    ; Lives a woman true, and fair. ; If thou findst one, let me know, ; Such a pilgrimage were sweet; ; Yet do not, I would not go,

    ; Though at next door we might meet; ; Though she were true when you met her, ; And last till you write your letter, ; Yet she

    ; Will be

    ; False, ere I come, to two, or three. ; Questions:

    ; In what way is Donnes poems different from the love poems written by other

    Elizabethan poets?

    ; What is the central idea of this poem?

; To His Coy Mistress

    ; Andrew Marvell

    ; Had we but world enough, and time, ; This coyness, Lady, were no crime. ; We would sit down, and think which way ; To walk, and pass our long loves day.

    ; Thou by the Indian Ganges tide

    ; Shouldst rubies find, I by the tide ; Of Humber would complain, I would ; Love you ten years before the Flood, ; As you should, if you please, refuse ; Till the conversion of the Jews. ; My vegetable love should grow ; Vaster than empire and more slow. ; An hundred years should go to praise ; Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; ; Two hundred to adore each breast, ; But thirty thousand to the rest; ; An age at least to every part, ; And the last age should show your heart

    ; For, Lady, you deserve this state, ; Nor would I love at lower rate. ; But at my back I always hear

    ; Times winged chariot hurrying near;


; And yonder all before us lie

    ; Deserts of vast eternity.

    ; Thy beauty shall no more be found;

    ; Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound ; My echoing song; then worms shall try ; That long-preservd virginity

    ; And your quaint honor turn to dust, ; And into ashes all my lust.

; The graves a fine and private place,

    ; But none I think do there embrace.

    ; Now therefore, while the youthful hue ; Sits on thy skin like morning dew,

    ; And while thy willing soul transpires ; At every pore with instant fires,

    ; Now let us sport us while we may;

    ; And now, like amrous birds of prey,

    ; Rather at once our time devour,

    ; Than languish in his slow-chapped power. ; Let us roll all our strength, and all ; Our sweetness, up into one ball,

    ; And tear our pleasures with rough strife, ; Through the iron gates of life.

    ; Thus, though we cannot make our sun ; Stand still, yet we will make him run.

    Dramatic Monologue

    ; It is a lyrical poem reveals a soul in action through the conversation of one character

    in a dramatic situation. The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a

    dramatic moment in the speakers life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation

    are made by implication in the poem, and a deep insight into the character of the speaker

    is given. Although quite an old form, it was brought to a very high level by Robert

    Browning. His poems. “ My Last Duchess”, “ Pippa Passes”, and T.S. Eliot‟s “ The Love

    Song of Prufrock” are in this form too.


    My Last Duchess

     Ferrara Robert Browning ; That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, ; Looking as if she were alive. I call ; That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf 's hands

    ; Worked busily a day, and there she stands.


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