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The City of Dreadful Night is a long poem by the Scottish poet James "B.V." Thomson, written between 1870 and 1873, and published in the National Reformer in 1874, [1] then, in 1880, in a book entitled The City of Dreadful Night and Other Poems. [2] The poem is noted for the pessimistic philosophy that it expresses. [3] It has been argued that ...
"Sleep and Poetry" (1816) is a poem by the English Romantic poet John Keats.It was started late one evening while staying the night at Leigh Hunt's cottage. [citation needed] It is often cited [by whom?] as a clear example of Keats's bower-centric poetry, yet it contains lines that make such a simplistic reading problematic, [clarification needed] such as: "First the realm I'll pass/Of Flora ...
As the poem ends, the trance caused by the nightingale is broken and the narrator is left wondering if it was a real vision or just a dream. [24] The poem's reliance on the process of sleeping is common to Keats's poems, and "Ode to a Nightingale" shares many of the same themes as Keats' Sleep and Poetry and Eve of St. Agnes. This further ...
The text of the poem reflects the thoughts of a lone wagon driver (the narrator), on the night of the winter solstice, "the darkest evening of the year", pausing at dusk in his travel to watch snow falling in the woods. It ends with him reminding himself that, despite the loveliness of the view, "I have promises to keep, / And miles to go ...
Do not go gentle into that good night" is a poem in the form of a villanelle by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas (1914–1953), and is one of his best-known works. [1] Though first published in the journal Botteghe Oscure in 1951, [ 2 ] Thomas wrote the poem in 1947 while visiting Florence with his family.
The torrid sun poured its rays down into the courtyard of the library and heated the iron grilling of the book stacks until they were like prison bars in more senses than one. The dry dust of the dry books (ironic incongruity!–a poet shut up with medical works), rasped sharply in his hot throat, and he understood how the bird felt when it ...
The speaker of the poem describes the gruesome effects of the gas on the man, and concludes that anyone who sees the reality of war at first hand would not repeat mendacious platitudes such as dulce et decorum est pro patria mori: "How sweet and honourable it is to die for one's country". Owen himself was a soldier who served on the front line ...
Warm, dark, obscure and infinite, daughter of Night: Dark is her brow, the beauty of her eyes with sleep Is loaded, and her pains are long, and her delight. Tempt not Athene. Wound not in her fertile pains Demeter, nor rebel against her mother-right. Oh who will reconcile in me both maid and mother, Who make in me a concord of the depth and height?