Poetry Friday 33

I've got an eclectic mix of poems for you this week. First is "Ariel's Song" from The Tempest:

Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd
The wild waves whist,
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark!
Bow-wow.
The watch-dogs bark.
Bow-wow.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong, bell

I picked this because the second stanza is quoted twice in Robert Westall's The Machine Gunners (which I read and reviewed on Tuesday).

Next is A A Milne's

The King's Breakfast

The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
"Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?"
The Queen asked the Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, "Certainly,
I'll go and tell the cow
Now
Before she goes to bed."

The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told the Alderney:
"Don't forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread."

The Alderney said sleepily:
"You'd better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead."

The Dairymaid
Said "Fancy!"
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
"Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It's very
Thickly
Spread."

The Queen said
"Oh!"
And went to his Majesty:
"Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?"

The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"

The Queen said,
"There, there!"
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "There, there!"
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
"There, there!
I didn't really
Mean it;
Here's milk for his porringer
And butter for his bread."

The queen took the butter
And brought it to
His Majesty.
The King said
"Butter, eh?"
And bounced out of bed.
"Nobody," he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
"Nobody," he said,
As he slid down
The banisters,
"Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man -
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!"

I offer this because it was A A Milne's birthday yesterday.

Finally, today is the birthday of Edgar Allan Poe, so I thought I would link to an earlier Poetry Friday offering for the full text of Poe's poem, The Raven.

Poetry Friday 32

I'm still reading James Shapiro's 1599: A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare, so I'm going to share two of Shakespeare's Sonnets with you this week.

Sonnet 60

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith, being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight
And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of natures truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow;
And yet, to times, in hope, my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.


Sonnet 64

When I have seen by time's fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;
When sometime-lofty towers I see down razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the wat'ry main,
Increasing store with loss and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate:
That time will come and take my love away.
This thought is as a death, which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

Both of these Sonnets are on the theme of Time, which seems appropriate since I'm reading Shapiro's book to accompany Susan Cooper's King of Shadows, which as you know if you've seen my review (for a previous Poetry Friday) or are reading it in preparation for the Book Discussion Group, is a time-slip story.

Is Shakespeare good for the brain ?

Last week The Times reported that reading Shakespeare can excite the brain in a way that keeps it "fit", so researchers at the University of Liverpool are claiming. They are investigating whether wrestling with Shakespeare's innovative use of language can help to prevent dementia. Whilst monitoring participants with brain-imaging equipment, the research team found that certain lines from Shakespeare, and other great British writers such as Chaucer and Wordsworth, caused the brain to "spark" with electrical activity because of the unusual words or sentence structure. In particular, the use of "functional shift", such as when a noun is used as a verb, causes the brain to react "in a similar way to putting a jigsaw puzzle together", reports Philip Davis, of the university’s School of English. Professor Davis, who has a book out next week called Shakespeare Thinking, believes that reading classic literature helps children in their wider studies.

Thanks to Lee at Lowebrow Blog for the link.