Tuesday, February 20, 2007

A Santayana Poem Selection

It's been a while since I've shared a poem. I thought this a beautiful poem of grief. Sadly, we all experience the grief of losing a loved one. I thought this a beautiful sentiment and wanted to share. I thought the last two lines (which I've marked, to be particularly compelling):


To. W. P.

With you a part of me hath passed away;
For in the peopled forest of my mind
A tree made leafless by this wintry wind
Shall never don again its green array.
Chapel and fireside, country road and bay
Have something of their friendliness resigned;
Another, if I would, I could not find,
And I am grown much older in a day.
But yet I treasure in my memory
Your gift of charity, and young heart's ease,
And the dear honour of your amity;
For these once mine, my life rich with these.
And I scarce know which part may greater be,---
What I keep of you, or you rob from from me.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wonderful!

Thank you for posting this poem.

~ Nona

russell1200 said...

524

Departed — to the Judgment —
A Mighty Afternoon —
Great Clouds —like Ushers—learning—
Creation — looking on —

The Flesh —Surrendered— Cancelled —
The Bodiless — begun —
Two Worlds—like Audiences—disperse —
And leave the Soul — alone —

Emily Dickinson
~1962

russell1200 said...

III. By Her Aunt's Grave


'Sixpence a week,' says the girl to her lover,
'Aunt used to bring me, for she could confide
In me alone, she vowed. 'Twas to cover
The cost of her headstone when she died.
And that was a year ago last June;
I've not yet fixed it. But I must soon.

'And where is the money now, my dear?'
'O, snug in my purse... Aunt was so slow
In saving it -- eighty weeks, or near.'...
'Let's spend it,' he hints. 'For she won't know
There's a dance to-night at the Load of Hay.'
She passively nods. And they go that way.

Thomas Hardy
From Satires OF Circumstance in Fifteen Glimpses
1912-1914