“The Brown Thrush”Singing from the bark of a tree. Lucy Larcom was born on March 5, 1824, at Beverly , Massachusetts, U. S. She was a school Teacher , Writer and A Poet. She passed on at 69 years of age , on April 17, 1893 , in Boston, Massachusetts , U. S.
There’s a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree. He’s singing to me! He’s singing to me! And what does he say, little girl, little boy? “Oh, the world’s running over with joy! Don’t you hear? Don’t you see? Hush! Look! In my tree I’m as happy as happy can be!”
And the brown thrush keeps singing, “A nest do you see, And five eggs, hid by me in the juniper tree? Don’t meddle! Don’t touch! Little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy! Now I’m glad! Now I’m free! And I always shall be, If you never bring sorrow to me.”
So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, To you and to me, to you and to me; And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, “Oh, the world’s running over with joy! But long it won’t be, Don’t you know? Don’t you see? Unless we are as good as can be!”
“The Brown Thrush”, A Bird Poem by Lucy Larcom is About The Brown Thrush who keeps singing all day because the world is running over with joy and happiness. His only request to his listeners girl and boy is that they should not touch any of his five eggs in the brood kept hidden in his juniper tree. Because by such “meddling and touch”.. . “the world will loss some of its joy !” which is promised to be there forever by the young ones of This songbird , The Brown Thrush.The singing brown Thrush is glad and free and promises “happiness forever”, if his listeners never bring sorrows to him. For this happiness forever one should be” as good as one can be.”: By such goodness , he means that no-one should be “meddling”, that is , intrude in other living being’s affairs or activities. Because interfering unwantedlycan cause for loss of happiness and bring sadness, grief and sorrows which are associated with loss or bereavement. : : : :
“The Brown Thrush”, A Bird Poem by Lucy Larcom Information Appreciation and poem Analysis Presented by V Jayaraj Pune India November 11, 2023 : : : : : : : :
Painting by Frederick Watts (1817-1904). London, National Portrait Gallery ( Photo by DeAgostini/Getty Images ) : George Meredith ( 1828 – 1909 ) “O the truth, the truth! the many eyes That look on it! the diverse things they see.”George Meredith (12 February 1828 – 18 May 1909) was an English novelist and poet. : : Quotes By George Meredith : : More brain, O Lord, more brain! or we shall mar Utterly this fair garden we might win : : : : * First of earthly singers, the sun-loved rill. Phoebus with Admetus st. 3 * See ye not, Courtesy Is the true Alchemy, Turning to gold all it touches and tries? The Song of Courtesy, IV (1859) * I’ve studied men from my topsy-turvy Close, and I reckon, rather true. Some are fine fellows: some, right scurvy; Most, a dash between the two. Juggling Jerry, st. 7 (1859) * It’s past parsons to console us: No, nor no doctor fetch for me: I can die without my bolus; Two of a trade, lass, never agree! Parson and Doctor!–don’t they love rarely Fighting the devil in other men’s fields! Stand up yourself and match him fairly: Then see how the rascal yields! Juggling Jerry, st. 9 (1859) * Into the breast that gives the rose, Shall I with shuddering fall? Ode to the Spirit of Earth in Autumn, st. 13 (1862) : : For singing till his heaven fills, ‘Tis love of earth that he instils, And ever winging up and up, Our valley is his golden cup, And he the wine which overflows To lift us with him as he goes. The Lark Ascending, l. 65-70 (1881) The song seraphically free Of taint of personality, So pure that it salutes the suns The voice of one for millions, In whom the millions rejoice For giving their one spirit voice. The Lark Ascending, l. 95-100 But O the truth, the truth! the many eyes That look on it! the diverse things they see! A Ballad of Fair Ladies in Revolt st. 16 (1883) On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose. Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend. Lucifer in Starlight, l. 1-2 (1883) Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law. Lucifer in Starlight, l. 13-14 : : Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare. Nothing harms beneath the leaves More than waves a swimmer cleaves. Toss your heart up with the lark, Foot at peace with mouse and worm, Fair you fare. Only at a dread of dark Quaver, and they quit their form: Thousand eyeballs under hoods Have you by the hair. Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare. The Woods of Westermain, st. 1 (1883) She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won! Love in the Valley, st. 2 (1883) Darker grows the valley, more and more forgetting: So were it with me if forgetting could be willed. Tell the grassy hollow that holds the bubbling well-spring, Tell it to forget the source that keeps it filled. Love in the Valley, st. 5 : : Civil limitation daunts His utterance never; the nymphs blush, not he. An Orson of the Muse (1883) With patient inattention hear him prate. Bellerophon, st. 4 (1887) Full lasting is the song, though he, The singer, passes The Thrush in February, st. 17 (1888) Behold the life at ease; it drifts, The sharpened life commands its course. Hard Weather, l. 71 (1888) All wisdom’s armoury this man could wield The Sage Enamoured (1892) Cannon his name, Cannon his voice, he came. Napoléon, I (1898) : : : : Modern Love (1862) : : : : Earth, the mother of all, Moves on her stedfast way, Gathering, flinging, sowing. Mortals, we live in her day, She in her children is growing. Ode to the Spirit of Earth in Autumn, st. 14 For singing till his heaven fills, ‘Tis love of earth that he instils, And ever winging up and up, Our valley is his golden cup, And he the wine which overflows To lift us with him as he goes. The Lark Ascending, l. 65-70 (1881) The song seraphically free Of taint of personality, So pure that it salutes the suns The voice of one for millions, In whom the millions rejoice For giving their one spirit voice. The Lark Ascending, l. 95-100 But O the truth, the truth! the many eyes That look on it! the diverse things they see! A Ballad of Fair Ladies in Revolt st. 16 (1883) On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose. Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend. Lucifer in Starlight, l. 1-2 (1883) Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law. Lucifer in Starlight, l. 13-14 Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare. Nothing harms beneath the leaves More than waves a swimmer cleaves. Toss your heart up with the lark, Foot at peace with mouse and worm, Fair you fare. Only at a dread of dark Quaver, and they quit their form: Thousand eyeballs under hoods Have you by the hair. Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare. The Woods of Westermain, st. 1 (1883) She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won! Love in the Valley, st. 2 (1883) Darker grows the valley, more and more forgetting: So were it with me if forgetting could be willed. Tell the grassy hollow that holds the bubbling well-spring, Tell it to forget the source that keeps it filled. Love in the Valley, st. 5 Civil limitation daunts His utterance never; the nymphs blush, not he. An Orson of the Muse (1883) With patient inattention hear him prate. Bellerophon, st. 4 (1887) Full lasting is the song, though he, The singer, passes The Thrush in February, st. 17 (1888) Behold the life at ease; it drifts, The sharpened life commands its course. Hard Weather, l. 71 (1888) All wisdom’s armoury this man could wield The Sage Enamoured (1892) Cannon his name, Cannon his voice, he came. Napoléon, I (1898): : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : The Ordeal of Richard Feverel (1859) : : : : * I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man. Ch. 1 * Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered. Ch. 12 * Perfect simplicity is unconsciously audacious. Ch. 15 * The sun is coming down to earth, and the fields and the waters shout to him golden shouts. Ch. 19 * Kissing don’t last; cookery do! Ch. 28 * God’s rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman! Ch. 33 * Speech is the small change of Silence. Ch. 34 : : Modern Love (1862) : :
* Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we pay for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. St. 4 * And if I drink oblivion of a day, So shorten I the stature of my soul. St. 12 * The actors are, it seems, the usual three: Husband and wife and lover. St. 25 : What are we first ? First Animals and next Intelligences at a leap; on whom Pale lies the distant shadow of the tomb, And all that draweth on the tomb for text. Into which state comes Love, the crowning sun: Beneath whose light the shadow loses form. We are the lords of life, and life is warm. Intelligence and instinct now are one. But nature says: ‘My children most they seem When they least know me: therefore I decree That they shall suffer.’ Swift doth young Love flee, And we stand wakened, shivering from our dream. Then if we study Nature we are wise. St. 30 * How many a thing which we cast to the ground, When others pick it up, becomes a gem! St. 41 * Compare: “Once in a golden hour / I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed”, Alfred Tennyson, The Flower. * In tragic life, God wot, No villain need be! Passions spin the plot: We are betrayed by what is false within. St. 43 * More brain, O Lord, more brain! or we shall mar Utterly this fair garden we might win. St. 48 * Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life! – In tragic hints here see what evermore Moves dark as yonder midnight ocean’s force, Thundering like ramping hosts of warrior horse, To throw that faint thin fine upon the shore! St. 50 * : : The Egoist (1879) : :
* Comedy is a game played to throw reflections upon social life, and it deals with human nature in the drawing-room of civilized men and women, where we have no dust of the struggling outer world, no mire, no violent crashes, to make the correctness of the representation convincing. Prelude * She [Comedy] it is who proposes the correcting of pretentiousness, of inflation, of dulness, and of the vestiges of rawness and grossness to be found among us. She is the ultimate civilizer, the polisher, a sweet cook. Prelude * Cynicism is intellectual dandyism. Ch. 7 * In…the book of Egoism, it is written, possession without obligation to the object possessed approaches felicity. Ch. 14 : : Diana of the Crossways (1885): : edit * A witty woman is a treasure; a witty beauty is a power. Ch. 1 * What a woman thinks of women is the test of her nature. Ch. 1 * The well of true wit is truth itself. Ch. 1 * Ireland gives England her soldiers, her generals too. Ch. 2 * “How divine is utterance!” she said. “As we to the brutes, poets are to us.” Ch. 16 * There is nothing the body suffers that the soul may not profit by. Ch. 18
The Thrush In February : : by George Meredith I know him, February’s thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.
Now ere the foreign singer thrills Our vale his plain-song pipe he pours, A herald of the million bills; And heed him not, the loss is yours.
My study, flanked with ivied fir And budded beech with dry leaves curled, Perched over yew and juniper, He neighbours, piping to his world:-
The wooded pathways dank on brown, The branches on grey cloud a web, The long green roller of the down, An image of the deluge-ebb:-
And farther, they may hear along The stream beneath the poplar row. By fits, like welling rocks, the song Spouts of a blushful Spring in flow.
But most he loves to front the vale When waves of warm South-western rains Have left our heavens clear in pale, With faintest beck of moist red veins:
Vermilion wings, by distance held To pause aflight while fleeting swift: And high aloft the pearl inshelled Her lucid glow in glow will lift;
A little south of coloured sky; Directing, gravely amorous, The human of a tender eye Through pure celestial on us:
Remote, not alien; still, not cold; Unraying yet, more pearl than star; She seems a while the vale to hold In trance, and homelier makes the far.
Then Earth her sweet unscented breathes, An orb of lustre quits the height; And like blue iris-flags, in wreaths The sky takes darkness, long ere quite.
His Island voice then shall you hear, Nor ever after separate From such a twilight of the year Advancing to the vernal gate.
He sings me, out of Winter’s throat, The young time with the life ahead; And my young time his leaping note Recalls to spirit-mirth from dead.
Imbedded in a land of greed, Of mammon-quakings dire as Earth’s, My care was but to soothe my need; At peace among the littleworths.
To light and song my yearning aimed; To that deep breast of song and light Which men have barrenest proclaimed; As ’tis to senses pricked with fright.
So mine are these new fruitings rich The simple to the common brings; I keep the youth of souls who pitch Their joy in this old heart of things:
Who feel the Coming young as aye, Thrice hopeful on the ground we plough; Alive for life, awake to die; One voice to cheer the seedling Now.
Full lasting is the song, though he, The singer, passes: lasting too, For souls not lent in usury, The rapture of the forward view.
With that I bear my senses fraught Till what I am fast shoreward drives. They are the vessel of the Thought. The vessel splits, the Thought survives.
Nought else are we when sailing brave, Save husks to raise and bid it burn. Glimpse of its livingness will wave A light the senses can discern
Across the river of the death, Their close. Meanwhile, O twilight bird Of promise! bird of happy breath! I hear, I would the City heard.
The City of the smoky fray; A prodded ox, it drags and moans: Its Morrow no man’s child; its Day A vulture’s morsel beaked to bones.
It strives without a mark for strife; It feasts beside a famished host: The loose restraint of wanton life, That threatened penance in the ghost!
Yet there our battle urges; there Spring heroes many: issuing thence, Names that should leave no vacant air For fresh delight in confidence.
Life was to them the bag of grain, And Death the weedy harrow’s tooth. Those warriors of the sighting brain Give worn Humanity new youth.
Our song and star are they to lead The tidal multitude and blind From bestial to the higher breed By fighting souls of love divined,
They scorned the ventral dream of peace, Unknown in nature. This they knew: That life begets with fair increase Beyond the flesh, if life be true.
Just reason based on valiant blood, The instinct bred afield would match To pipe thereof a swelling flood, Were men of Earth made wise in watch.
Though now the numbers count as drops An urn might bear, they father Time. She shapes anew her dusty crops; Her quick in their own likeness climb.
Of their own force do they create; They climb to light, in her their root. Your brutish cry at muffled fate She smites with pangs of worse than brute.
She, judged of shrinking nerves, appears A Mother whom no cry can melt; But read her past desires and fears, The letters on her breast are spelt.
A slayer, yea, as when she pressed Her savage to the slaughter-heaps, To sacrifice she prompts her best: She reaps them as the sower reaps.
But read her thought to speed the race, And stars rush forth of blackest night: You chill not at a cold embrace To come, nor dread a dubious might.
Her double visage, double voice, In oneness rise to quench the doubt. This breath, her gift, has only choice Of service, breathe we in or out.
Since Pain and Pleasure on each hand Led our wild steps from slimy rock To yonder sweeps of gardenland, We breathe but to be sword or block.
The sighting brain her good decree Accepts; obeys those guides, in faith, By reason hourly fed, that she, To some the clod, to some the wraith,
Is more, no mask; a flame, a stream. Flame, stream, are we, in mid career From torrent source, delirious dream, To heaven-reflecting currents clear.
And why the sons of Strength have been Her cherished offspring ever; how The Spirit served by her is seen Through Law; perusing love will show.
Love born of knowledge, love that gains Vitality as Earth it mates, The meaning of the Pleasures, Pains, The Life, the Death, illuminates.
For love we Earth, then serve we all; Her mystic secret then is ours: We fall, or view our treasures fall, Unclouded, as beholds her flowers
Earth, from a night of frosty wreck, Enrobed in morning’s mounted fire, When lowly, with a broken neck, The crocus lays her cheek to mire.
— George Meredith : : From poetrynook.com : For Educational Purposes only.
“The Thrush In February”, A Bird Poem by George Meredith : : Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 10 , 2023 : : : :
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring – When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy? A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy, Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning, Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy, Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
“Spring”, A 14 lines Sonnet ( With Pattern of ABBAABBA in Octet of the first 8 lines , and a pattern of CDCDCD in Sestet of the next 6 lines ) , and A Spring Poem / Bird Poem By one of the most important poets of the Victorian era and Jesuit Priest, Gerard Manley Hopkins is About the beauty of springdepicted in Octet and addressing to Christ, willing him to save the innocent children. Hopkins describes the joys of spring against a religious settings for the Garden of Eden and sin. Hopkins asks that Christ make sure that the “innocent” children are saved from the sin that doomed the Garden of Eden. : : : :
Notes for each of the lines Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 9, 2023 : : : :
Of kings and fiends and gods, and most of the stars.
Some things I have forgot that I forget.
But lesser things there are, remembered yet,
Than all the others. One name that I have not —
Though ’tis an empty thingless name — forgot
Never can die because Spring after Spring
Some thrushes learn to say it as they sing.
There is always one at midday saying it clear
And tart — the name, only the name I hear.
While perhaps I am thinking of the elder scent
That is like food, or while I am content
With the wild rose scent that is like memory,
This name suddenly is cried out to me
From somewhere in the bushes by a bird
Over and over again, a pure thrush word.
— Edward Thomas (1878-1917)
“The World”, A Bird Poem by Edward Thomas is About Powerful influence of “Pure Word” Of The Song-bird , The Thrush “cried out to the Poet Speaker over and over again”. Like when you move about; moving from place to place ( like a Social Swinger ) you might have to take bypasses and short -cuts , then think about your routines that you have followed ; think about the powerful sources or influence of change- bringers surrounding you , too that can be noticed. The Poet Speaker realises that he forgets so many things as also the names ” Of kings and fiends and gods, and most of the stars.. . ; mighty menThat fought and lost or won in the old wars,”; Some of them were war heroes, some were inhuman , demon 👿 like evil forces, or the fanatics. The Speaker elaborates further, “Some things I have forgot that I forget.
But lesser things there are, remembered yet,
Than all the others. One name that I have not —
Though ’tis an empty thing-less name — forgot.” : : He exemplifies remembering the name of some “tart”, after having contented with a tangy tast of the food or with “the wild Rose scent that is like memory”; such “name suddenly is cried out,” that is , called out to him often with surprise or joy ,”From somewhere in the bushes by a bird , Over and over again , a pure Thrush word.”
“The Word”A Bird Poem by Edward Thomas Information Appreciation and poem Analysis Presented by V Jayaraj Pune India November 8, 2023 : : : : : : : :
Ted Hughes ( 17 August 1930 , Mytholmroyd, Yorkshire, England — 28 October 1998 , aged 68 London, England ) : Hughes was married to American poet Sylvia Plath from 1956 until her death by suicide in 1963 at the age of 30. His last poetic work, Birthday Letters (1998), explored their relationship. Ted Hughes was an English poet, translator, and children’s writer. Critics frequently rank him as one of the best poets of his generation and one of the twentieth century’s greatest writers. : In 2008 The Times ranked Hughes fourth on its list of “The 50 greatest British writers since 1945″He was known for his animal poetry like The Thought Fox, Thrushes, Hawk in the Rain, The Horses, and many more, and is known as an animal poet who places animals superior to human beings.
Thrushes : : by Ted Hughes Terrifying are the attent sleek thrushes on the lawn, More coiled steel than living – a poised Dark deadly eye, those delicate legs Triggered to stirrings beyond sense – with a start, a bounce, a stab Overtake the instant and drag out some writhing thing. No indolent procrastinations and no yawning states, No sighs or head-scratchings. Nothing but bounce and stab And a ravening second.
Is it their single-mind-sized skulls, or a trained Body, or genius, or a nestful of brats Gives their days this bullet and automatic Purpose? Mozart’s brain had it, and the shark’s mouth That hungers down the blood-smell even to a leak of its own Side and devouring of itself: efficiency which Strikes too streamlined for any doubt to pluck at it Or obstruction deflect.
With a man it is otherwise. Heroisms on horseback, Outstripping his desk-diary at a broad desk, Carving at a tiny ivory ornament For years: his act worships itself – while for him, Though he bends to be blent in the prayer, how loud and above what Furious spaces of fire do the distracting devils Orgy and hosannah, under what wilderness Of black silent waters weep. — Ted Hughes : From allpoetry.com : For educational purposes Only. “Thrushes”Written in 3 stanzas with 8 lines in each stanza and first published in 1957 Anthology ,’ The Hawk In The Rain’ ( which established Hughes as a major Voice In British Poetry ) , A Bird Poem By Poet Laureate of U. K. ( In office from 28 December 1984 – 28 October 1998 , during Elizabeth ii , as monarch ) Ted Hughes is About picturing of thrushes as powerful and efficient predators in nature, highlighting the contrast between their concentrated instinctual behaviour with attention and efforts and the elaborate contemplation and nonattentive nature of humans. : :
Notes for each of the lines Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 7 , 2023 : : : :
Hai-Dang Phan is the author of Reenactments (Sarabande Books, 2019) and the translator of Phan Nhiên Hạo’s Paper Bells (The Song Cave, 2020). He is the recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and the American Literary Translators Association, he lives in Iowa City.
Canto for the Chestnut-Eared Laughingthrush : : By Hai-Dang Phan : : : : And then rushed into the embrace of the mountains Of the Kontum Plateau, ferried through Lo Xo pass, Blew past Măng Đen, dizzied among hairpin turns, Floating in the lushness 1,200 m above sea level, Amid a mosaic of prime evergreen, gasping. And up there we saw: strata of emerald forms, Of beech, laurel, magnolia, heather, and myrtle. Under unbroken canopy, in the undergrowth Of that species rich upper montane wet forest, Hidden somewhere in that mystery must be Our very own Chestnut-eared Laughingthrush. Garrulax konkakinhensis was our day’s journey And query, who appeared in our dreams calling. So we began our search, checked known locations. At the first spot, magpies. The next: babblers. But we kept looking, listening, knowing the forest Gives up its secrets slowly. And passion we knew From experience associates with wild patience. On our lips the other name, Khướu Kon Ka Kinh, For the shy terrestrial bird who has no need for names, But sustenance and song. Then came a rasping buzz. Close by us, there in the undergrowth, a voice Signed among the trees. A few turns of the Kaleidoscope, new shapes and colors rearranged Themselves into the winged creature we sought out: Brown and black dappled, spotted, and speckled, The chestnut patch brushed behind the knowing eye, Blurring well into the daylight world of shadows. As if a slight breeze stirred, gentle movements Among the leaves and branches told us our bird Retreated out of sight. We all breathed again. The laughingthrush exists. The mountain forest exists. This was only prelude, for we struck deeper into The interior seeking greater clarity, closer listening. And so we stood like trees staring back into the trees, Ears peering through the green abundance, Touching the colorful cacophony of sounds. Reader, desire follows you into the field, Where what you want colors what you see. On the road back to Pleiku, looking out across The highlands that held us, we all smiled— There was no need for words. Each replayed In their mind’s eye the day’s loveliness. Then came news of extinction. The Javan rhino Dead, the last of his kind found slaughtered At Cát Tiên, horn sawed off. Joy fell from the sky. Let us not tell our children a story that begins, Once in the forests there was a laughingthrush . . . We had met with Chestnut-eared Laughingthrush Again and again, there in the heart of the heart Of the forest, there where our fellow humans Had not cleared, hunted, trapped, and defoliated Life out of existence. There sweet thrush-like notes May stream yet as water over rows of stones. Others there sang the songs of their species too. And our bodies also lighter with laughter.
“Canto For The Laughing-Thrush”By Hai-Dang Phan is About Birding Observation for searching laughing Thrush, and the Conditions for feeling lighter with laughter. in the Country of The Poet Speaker’s Birth. In the words of Hai-Dang Phan, “I drafted this poem while preparing for my first birdwatching trip to the country of my birth. In Vietnam, laughingthrushes are synonymous with birding. Inspired by a field report written by the Vietnamese birding guide Lê Quý Minh, the poem coaxes forward the emotional experience of the sixth extinction alongside a conservationist ethic, centering love for the more-than-human as a source of great joy as well as grief, anger, and anxiety. While I have neither heard nor seen a laughingthrush before, the descriptive hope of the poem says, you have and will.” : : : :
Notes for each of the lines Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 6, 2023 : : : :
Richard Eberhart ( 1904 – 2005 ) : : born in 1904 in Minnesota. He earned his BA from Dartmouth, where he later served for many years as poet in residence, and a second BA from Cambridge University. Eberhart traveled widely and held a variety of jobs, including deck hand on a steam ship, tutor to the King of Siam’s son, and gunnery instructor during World War II.He helped found the Poets Theatre in Cambridge, Massachusetts and was appointed Poetry Consultant to the Library of Congress in 1959. His verse is marked by intellectual rigor, deliberateness, and forthright honesty which are amplified by the halting music and uneasy syntax of his style. : Once considered one of the most prominent American poets of the 20th century, Eberhart was a modern stylist with romantic sensibilities. Eberhart’s poems treat the varieties of human suffering that grow out of social, political, and family strife.” : : Sometimes labeled a nature poet, he often wrote about death, most notably in his famous poem “The Groundhog,” but his themes also include a preoccupation with such things as the tension between childhood and adulthood, innocence and experience. Ralph J. Mills, Jr., reviewing Eberhart’s collection Fields of Grace (1972), noted that “the uniqueness of his poetry resides in [his] visionary intensity that throws caution to the winds in order to seize the given insight.” : : His poem “Orchard” is also based on a real-life tragedy, the death of his mother from lung cancer when he was 18. “Eberhart himself has said that the death of his mother made him a poet,” : : A Bravery of Earth marks the beginning of “his lifelong exploration of the parallel dichotomy between the human being’s life-seeking, order-creating spirit, and the death-dealing chaos of the exterior, ‘objective’ world, a dichotomy that finds its only, albeit temporary, resolution in art.” : : He then became a teacher in Massachusetts, all the while working on his poetry but achieving little recognition for his efforts.: : Eberhart’s poem “The Groundhog” was published in 1934 in the Listener to praise from literary critics. The poem concerns the thoughts of the narrator as he views the dead body of a groundhog in four different stages of decay over time. . The final lines of the poem express both a sense of tragic loss and acceptance. “The themes of [‘The Groundhog’],” commented Roache, “life and death, man and nature, mortality and immortality, mind and body, concreteness and transcendence, recur throughout Eberhart’s career, and they draw upon the central dilemma of his work,” which is the struggle between “the innocence of childhood” and “the adult world of experience, limitation, and delusion.” The “intensity of childhood,” as a contributor to Contemporary Poets described it, is particularly well highlighted in Eberhart’s poem “If I Could Only Live at the Pitch That Is Near Madness.” : : After the war Eberhart joined his wife’s family’s company, the Butcher Polish Company, in Boston, eventually becoming vice president. The late 1940s and early 1950s were a productive time for the poet, who swerved into some experimentation when he joined the Poets’ Theatre in Cambridge and began writing verse dramas. The verse plays, however, were only an aside that occupied the poet’s time during the 1950s before he abandoned them to return to his regular poetic works. : : After leaving his company job in 1952, Eberhart embarked on a long academic career. He taught at a number of universities before joining the faculty at Dartmouth College in 1956, where he remained for the rest of his active career, becoming professor emeritus in 1971. His later poems reflect the sense of security and recognition professional success afforded him. The highlights of his poetic career came with the 1966 Pulitzer Prize-winning Selected Poems, 1930-1965 (1965) and the National Book Award-winning Collected Poems, 1930-1976 (1976), along with many other honors and prizes. : : According to Roache, and are apparent in such collections as Fields of Grace and Ways of Light (1980). “His vision has always been rooted in the ancient confrontation between innocence and experience, between the drive for order and the awareness of reality, a confrontation that seems unresolvable in the actual world,” wrote Roache. : : Eberhart’s poetry has been compared to that of such giants as William Blake and Walt Whitman. Poet-critic Hayden Carruth labeled him “a misplaced eighteenth-century sentimentalist,” yet characterized the poet’s style as thoroughly modern. Kenneth Rexroth, writing in the Saturday Review, argued that the poet’s resilience is due to three things: “Innocence. Wisdom. A pure heart.” : : Eberhart once told Contemporary Authors: “Consciousness is still a vast reservoir of spirit which we only partially perceive. If we could see or feel beyond the human condition is it possible to think that we could feel or think the unthinkable? The Greeks had aspiration to ideas of immortality. We twentieth-century Americans live closer to materialism than to idealism so we are more nearly measurers, like Aristotle, than dreamers of immortal types, like Plato. I am on Plato’s side rather than on Aristotle’s. However, our highest imaginations are ungraspable and we are constantly thrown back into the here and now, into materialistic reality. I think that poetry is allied to religion and to music. It helps us to live because it expresses our limitations, our mortality, while exciting us to a beyond which may or not be there, therefore death poems can be written in fullness of spirit, inviting contemplation of ultimate mysteries. Death poems are as good as life poems because they are also life poems, written in flesh and blood. Poetry embraces the moment as it flies.” : : Eberhart has been the subject of two films, one directed by Samuel Mandelbaum for Tri-Prix in 1972 and the other directed by Irving Broughton for the University of Washington in 1974. He died in 2005.Thrush Song At Dawn : : By Richard Eberhart
“Thrush Song At Dawn”, First published in August 1956 issue of Poetry Journal, A Bird Poem by Richard Eberhart is About appreciation of Thrush at Dawn, a “SongBird’s Song of lung – red singing with magic tone, divinity , a fast enchantment and as a sweet dark coil of time.”
Notes for each of the lines Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 5, 2023 : : : :
Robert Browning, Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Imag . : Robert Browning ( b.May 7, 1812 – 1889 ) one of the most important English poets of the Victorian period. His dramatic monologues and the psycho-historical epic The Ring and the Book (1868-1869), a novel in verse, have established him as a major figure in the history of English poetry. His claim to attention as a children’s writer is more modest, resting as it does almost entirely on one poem, “The Pied Piper of Hamelin,” included almost as an afterthought in Bells and Pomegranites. No. III.—Dramatic Lyrics (1842) : : His approach to dramatic monologue influenced countless poets for almost a century. : While Mrs. Browning’s piety and love of music are frequently cited as important influences on the poet’s development, his father’s scholarly interests and unusual educational practices may have been equally significant. : Browning’s father amassed a personal library of some 6,000 volumes, many of them collections of arcane lore and historical anecdotes that the poet plundered for poetic material, including the source of “The Pied Piper.”: Much of Browning’s education was conducted at home by his father, which accounts for the wide range of unusual information the mature poet brought to his work. : Paracelsus (1835), achieved more critical. : Browning also wrote several plays. “The Pied Piper” reflects the hand of a master storyteller. A narrative poem, “‘How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix,’“ appeared in Browning’s collection of dramatic monologues Bells and Pomegranates. No. VII.—Dramatic Romances & Lyrics (1845). : : Elizabeth Barrett admired the book, and in her 1844 poem “Lady Geraldine’s Courtship” she expressed the esteem in which she held Browning by linking him to William Wordsworth and Alfred, Lord Tennyson as one of the great poets of the age. She met Browning and the two poets fell deeply in love, On September 12, 1846 they were secretly married, and one week later they eloped to the Continent. : in his later years that curious phenomenon, the Victorian sage—widely regarded for his knowledge and his explorations of philosophical questions of great resonance in Victorian life. : Browning finally published the other poem written for young Willie Macready, “The Cardinal and the Dog which elicited little critical response. : Among the modernists, including T.S. Eliot (although Ezra Pound paid tribute to Browning as one of his literary fathers). : Following World War II, however, Browning’s reputation has been salvaged by a more objective generation of critics who note his poetic failings but also trace his influence on the poetic forms and concerns of his 20th-century successors. : Browning’s major contribution to the canon of children’s literature, “The Pied Piper of Hamelin,” has retained its popular audience.
At the time of his death in 1889, he was one of the most popular poets in England.Robert Browning ( 1812 – 1889 )
Home-Thoughts, from Abroad : : By Robert Browning
Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England—now!
And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge— That’s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture! And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children’s dower —Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower! — Robert Browning
“Home-thoughts From Abroad” 19 Lines in Two Stanzas, First published in his Dramatic Romances and Lyrics, Written in 1845 , known as one of the most patriotic poems in the English language, A Country House Poem / A Bird Poem by Robert Browning ( 1812 – 1889 ) is About the Poet Speaker as homesick traveler, longing for every detail of his beloved home. In 1995, Browning’s “Home Thoughts from Abroad” was voted 46th in a BBC poll to find the United Kingdom’s favourite poems. : : Visiting some unusually foreign lands in N. Italy, The Poet Speaker can only think of the springtime beauty of their native England. It is considered an exemplary work of Romantic literature for its evocation of a sense of longing and sentimental references to natural beauty. Remembered for its renowned opening lines, for their evocation of patriotic nostalgia :
“Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there” The flora of an English springtime, including brushwood, elm trees and pear tree blossom and to the sound of birdsong from chaffinches, whitethroats, swallows and thrushes describes Nature. In final conclusion, the blooming English buttercups will be brighter than the “gaudy melon-flower” seen growing in Italy. : : : :
Stanza 1 : : “Oh, to be in England 1 Now that April’s there, 2 And whoever wakes in England 3 Sees, some morning, unaware, 4 That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf 5 Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, 6 While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough 7 In England—now!” 8 : : lines 1 To 8 : : : :
About : Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 4, 2023 : : : :
‘Throstle’ ‘Throstle’ ‘Throstle’, by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Signed Handwritten manuscript. Poem begins: ‘ Summer is coming, summer is coming. I know it, I know it, I know it. Light again, leaf again, life again, love again, Yes, my wild little Poet’. AT: English poet laureate. 1809-1892. popular Victorian poet. Author of The Lady of Shallott. (Photo by Culture Club/Getty Images)
“The Throstle”: : By Alfred Lord Tennyson ( 1809 – 1892 ) ‘SUMMER is coming, summer is coming. I know it, I know it, I know it. Light again, leaf again, life again, love again,’ Yes, my wild little Poet. Sing the new year in under the blue. Last year you sang it as gladly. ‘New, new, new, new’! Is it then so new That you should carol so madly?
‘Love again, song again, nest again, young again,’ Never a prophet so crazy! And hardly a daisy as yet, little friend, See, there is hardly a daisy.
‘Here again, here, here, here, happy year’! O warble unchidden, unbidden! Summer is coming, is coming, my dear, And all the winters are hidden
“The Throstle”, A Bird Poem by The Poet Laureate of England ( from ) Alfred Lord Tennyson ( 1806 – 1892 ), is About A Conversation Between The Poet Speaker And his “Wild little Poet”, The Throstle, that is common Old World Thrush ( Turdus Philomelos / Mavis / Song Thrush ) known for its Song. This name is mentioned only in the Title of this Poem. Turdus is a Latin name of Thrush. The descriptive word refers to the Greek Mythological Character , Philomela, who had her tongue cut out , yet it was reincarnated as A Singing Bird, Thrush. Throstle & Mavis are dialectical names of Thrush and is relatable to German name, Drossel and French name, Mauvis. Chauser used it in his Parliament of Fowls. The musical singing is repeated 2 to 4 times. filip filip filip codidio codidio quitquiquit tittit tittit tereret tereret tereret, and interspersed with grating notes and mimicry. … An individual male may have a repertoire of more than 100 phrases, many copied from its parents and neighbouring birds. The Male Thrush sings it’s melodious song twice over. : : : :
Notes for each of the lines Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 3, 2023 : : : :
Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, ‘mid his surly reign, At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow.
Thus in bleak Poverty’s dominion drear, Sits meek Content with light, unanxious heart; Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part, Nor asks if they bring ought to hope or fear.
I thank thee, Author of this opening day! Thou whose bright sun now gilds yon orient skies! Riches denied, thy boon was purer joys – What wealth could never give nor take away!
But come, thou child of poverty and care, The mite high heav’n bestow’d, that mite with thee I’ll share.
“On Hearing A Thrush Sing”, Written in 1788 ( as per bbc.co.uk ) / , A Sweet Musical sonnet composed in the course of a morning walk in January ( On his Birthday, January 25, 1793 , as per Robert Burns.org ) By Scotland’s greatest Poet, Lyricist and Song – Writer And National Poet, Robert Burns ( 1759 – 1796 , Also known as Bobbie Burns / Rabbie Burns / The Ploughman Poet / Heaven -taught Ploughman / Robden Of Solway Further / The bard Of Ayrshire ) is About How “A Simple Song Bird can offer solace and remind the makar of his Maker, Author of this opening day”, As Donny O Rourke wrote, , Also, “Like the thrush (if less ‘naturally’ and with more stilted and effusive rhetorical strain),” : : : :
It was Robert Burns who wrote, ” Opera is where a guy gets stabbed in the back, instead of dying, he sings.” : : One day when Burns was ill and seemed slumber , he observed Jessy Lewars moving about the house with a light step lest she should disturb him. He took a little goblet containing wine-and-water for moistening his lips , wrote this words on it with a diamond , and presented it to her. ” : : : :
Notes for each of the lines Pending visit this post again later on to enjoy the appreciation of the poem V Jayaraj Pune India November 2, 2023 : : : :
MADHU MALTI 