The Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins With One Step Wall Art

ten Greatest Poems Ever Written

Updated: September iv, 2021

by Evan Mantyk

What is verse? What is great poetry? The poems below answer these questions. From least greatest (10) to greatest greatest (1), the poems in this list are limited to ones originally written in the English language and which are under 50 lines, excluding poems similar Homer's Iliad, Edgar Allan Poe'southward "Raven," Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy , and Lord Byron's mock epic Don Juan . Each poem is followed by some cursory analysis. Many good poems and poets had to be left off of this listing. In the comments department below, feel free to make additions or construct your own lists. You can also submit analyses of classic poetry to submissions@classicalpoets.org. They will be considered for publication on this website.

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10. "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost (1874-1963)

Two roads diverged in a yellowish woods,
And lamentable I could not travel both
And be i traveler, long I stood
And looked downwards i as far equally I could
To where information technology bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perchance the better merits,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing at that place
Had worn them really nearly the same,

And both that morn equally lay
In leaves no pace had trodden blackness.
Oh, I kept the commencement for some other day!
However knowing how way leads on to mode,
I doubted if I should ever come up back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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Assay of the Poem

This poem deals with that big noble question of "How to make a difference in the world?" On first reading, it tells us that the choice one makes really does matter, ending: "I took the one less traveled by, / And that has made all the difference."

A closer reading reveals that the solitary choice that was fabricated before by our traveling narrator maybe wasn't all that meaning since both roads were pretty much the same anyway ("Had warn them actually about the same") and it is but in the remembering and retelling that it made a divergence. We are left to ponder if the narrator had instead traveled downwards "The Road Not Taken" might it have also made a difference as well. In a sense, "The Road Not Taken" tears apart the traditional view of individualism, which hinges on the importance of choice, as in the case of commonwealth in general (choosing a candidate), as well equally various constitutional freedoms: choice of religion, choice of words (liberty of oral communication), choice of group (freedom of assembly), and choice of source of information (liberty of press). For example, we might imagine a boyfriend choosing between being a carpenter or a banker later seeing keen significance in his pick to be a banker, but in fact there was not much in his original decision at all other than a passing fancy. In this, we see the universality of human beings: the roads leading to carpenter and banker existence basically the aforementioned and the carpenters and bankers at the cease of them—seeming like individuals who fabricated significant choices—really beingness just role of the collective of the human race.

And so is this poem non nearly the question "How to make a difference in the world?" after all? No. It is still about this question. The catastrophe is the most clear and hitting part. If nothing else, readers are left with the impression that our narrator, who commands beautiful poetry, profound imagery, and time itself ("ages and ages hence") puts value on striving to make a difference. The striving is reconstituted and complicated here in reflection, simply our hero wants to brand a difference and then should we. That is why this is a dandy poem, from a basic or close reading perspective.

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9. "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus (1849-1887)

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our bounding main-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Female parent of Exiles. From her beacon-manus
Glows earth-wide welcome; her balmy eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched turn down of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, storm-tossed to me,
I elevator my lamp beside the gilt door!"

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Assay of the Poem

Inscribed on the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor, this sonnet may have the greatest placement of any English verse form. It also has one of the greatest placements in history. Lazarus compares the Statue of Liberty to the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Like the Statue of Liberty, the Colossus of Rhodes was an enormous god-like statue positioned in a harbor. Although the Colossus of Rhodes no longer stands, information technology symbolizes the aboriginal Greek world and the greatness of the ancient Greek and Roman civilization, which was lost for a thousand years to the West, and only fully recovered again during the Renaissance. "The New Colossus" succinctly crystallizes the connection between the ancient world and America, a modern nation. It's a connectedness that can exist seen in the White House and other state and judicial buildings across America that architecturally mirror ancient Greek and Roman buildings; and in the American political arrangement that mirrors Athenian Commonwealth and Roman Republicanism.

In the midst of this vast comparison of the ancient and the American, Lazarus withal manages to clearly render America'southward distinct grapheme. Information technology is the can-do spirit of taking those persecuted and poor from around the world and giving them a new opportunity and hope for the future, what she calls "the golden door." Information technology is a uniquely scrappy and compassionate quality that sets Americans autonomously from the ancients. The relevance of this verse form stretches all the way back to the pilgrims fleeing religious persecution in Europe to the controversies surrounding modern immigrants from Mexico and the Middle East. While circumstances today have changed drastically, at that place is no denying that this open door was office of what made America swell one time upon a time. It's the perfect depiction of this quintessential Americanness that makes "The New Colossus" besides outstanding.

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8. "Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand up in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The paw that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, male monarch of kings:
Wait on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Cypher beside remains. Circular the decay
Of that colossal wreck, dizzying and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."

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Assay of the Poem

In this winding story within a story within a verse form, Shelley paints for united states of america the prototype of the ruins of a statue of ancient Egyptian male monarch Ozymandias, who is today commonly known as Ramesses II. This male monarch is yet regarded equally the greatest and about powerful Egyptian pharaoh. Yet, all that'southward left of the statue are his legs, which tell us information technology was huge and impressive; the shattered head and snarling face, which tell u.s. how tyrannical he was; and his inscribed quote hailing the magnificent structures that he built and that accept been reduced to dust, which tells u.s.a. they might not have been quite as magnificent as Ozymandias imagined. The epitome of a dictator-similar king whose kingdom is no more creates a palpable irony. Only, beyond that there is a perennial lesson almost the inescapable and destructive forces of time, history, and nature. Success, fame, power, coin, health, and prosperity tin can only last and so long before fading into "lone and level sands."

There are withal more layers of pregnant here that elevate this into one of the greatest poems. In terms of lost civilizations that show the ephemeralness of human pursuits, there is no improve example than the Egyptians—who we acquaintance with such dazzling monuments as the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid at Giza (that stands far taller than the Statue of Liberty)—nonetheless who completely lost their spectacular language, civilization, and culture. If the forces of time, history, and nature can accept downwards the Egyptian civilization, it begs the question, "Who's next?" Additionally, Ozymandias is believed to have been the villainous pharaoh who enslaved the aboriginal Hebrews and who Moses led the exodus from. If all ordinary pursuits, such equally power and fame, are but dust, what remains, the poem suggests, are spirituality and morality—embodied by the aboriginal Hebrew faith. If you don't have those so in the long run you are a "jumbo wreck." Thus, the perfectly composed scene itself, the Egyptian imagery, and the Biblical backstory convey a perennial message and make this a great poem.

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7. "Ode on a Grecian Urn" by John Keats (1795-1821)

Grand still unravish'd helpmate of quietness,
Thou foster-kid of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts near thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweetness, just those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, just, more than endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, below the copse, chiliad canst non exit
Thy song, nor always can those trees be blank;
Assuming Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning about the goal all the same, do non grieve;
She cannot fade, though g hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thousand honey, and she be fair!

Keats'due south ain drawing of the Grecian Urn.

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever pipe songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and withal to be enjoy'd,
For always panting, and for ever immature;
All animate human passion far in a higher place,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and disgust'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching natural language.

Who are these coming to the cede?
To what green chantry, O mysterious priest,
Atomic number 82'st thousand that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little boondocks by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-congenital with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, piddling town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and non a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Off-white attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent course, dost tease usa out of thought
As doth eternity: Common cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste material,
Yard shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye demand to know."

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Analysis of the Poem

As if in response to Shelley's "Ozymandias," Keats's "Ode on a Grecian Urn" offers a sort of antitoxin to the inescapable and destructive force of time. Indeed, "Ode on a Grecian Urn" was published in 1819 only a year or so after "Ozymandias." The antidote is simple: fine art. The art on the Grecian urn—which is basically a decorative pot from ancient Hellenic republic—has survived for thousands of years. While empires rose and fell, the Grecian urn survived. Musicians, copse, lovers, heifers, and priests all go along dying decade afterwards decade and century subsequently century, but their artistic depictions on the Grecian urn live on for what seems eternity.

This realization almost the timeless nature of art is not new now nor was it in the 1800s, only Keats has chosen a perfect example since ancient Greek civilization so famously disappeared into the ages, existence subsumed by the Romans, and mostly lost until the Renaissance a chiliad years subsequently. At present, the ancient Greeks are all certainly dead (like the rex Ozymandias in Shelley's poem) just the Greek art and culture live on through Renaissance painters, the Olympic Games, endemic Neoclassical architecture, and, of course, the Grecian urn.

Farther, what is depicted on the Grecian urn is a variety of life that makes the otherwise common cold urn feel alive and vibrant. This aliveness is accentuated by Keats's barrage of questions and blaring exclamations: "More happy love! more happy, happy love!" Fine art, he seems to advise, is more alive and real than we might imagine. Indeed, the last two lines tin be read as the urn itself talking: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all / Ye know on globe, and all ye need to know." In these profound lines, Keats places us within ignorance, suggesting that what we know on world is limited, but that artistic beauty, which he has now established is alive, is continued with truth. Thus, nosotros tin can escape ignorance, humanness, and certain death and approach another course of life and truth through the dazzler of art. This effectively completes the thought that began in Ozymandias and makes this a great poem one notch up from its predecessor.

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6. "The Tiger" by William Blake (1757-1827)

Tiger Tiger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or center,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings cartel he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to crush,
What dread paw? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears
And h2o'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal manus or centre,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

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Assay of the Poem

This poem contemplates a question arising from the idea of creation past an intelligent creator. The question is this: If there is a loving, compassionate God or gods who created human beings and whose great powers exceed the comprehension of human beings, as many major religions concord, then why would such a powerful being allow evil into the world. Evil here is represented by a tiger that might, should y'all exist strolling in the Indian or Chinese wild in the 1700s, have leapt out and killed you. What would take created such a unsafe and evil animate being? How could it possibly be the same divine blacksmith who created a cute harmless fluffy lamb or who created Jesus, also known as the "Lamb of God" (which the devoutly Christian Blake was probably also referring to here). To put it another way, why would such a divine blacksmith create beautiful innocent children and and then besides let such children to be slaughtered. The bombardment of questions brings this mystery to life with lavish intensity.

Does Blake offer an answer to this question of evil from a proficient God? It would seem non on the surface. But, this wouldn't exist a slap-up poem if it were really that open up ended. The answer comes in the manner that Blake explains the question. Blake'due south language peels away the mundane globe and offers a look at the super-reality to which poets are privy. Nosotros wing about in "forests of the night" through "distant deeps or skies" looking for where the burn in the tiger's heart was taken from by the Creator. This is the reality of expanded time, space, and perception that Blake so conspicuously elucidates elsewhere with the lines "To see a globe in a grain of sand / And a heaven in a wild flower, / Hold infinity in the palm of your manus, / And eternity in an 60 minutes" ("Auguries of Innocence"). This indirectly tells u.s.a. that the reality that we normally know and perceive is actually insufficient, shallow, and deceptive. Where nosotros perceive the injustice of the wild tiger something else entirely may be transpiring. What we ordinarily have for truth may really be far from it: a idea that is scary, yet as well sublime or beautiful—like the beautiful and fearsome tiger. Thus, this verse form is great because information technology concisely and compellingly presents a question that nonetheless plagues humanity today, too every bit a key clue to the answer.

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5. "On His Blindness" past John Milton (1608-1674)

When I consider how my lite is spent
Ere one-half my days in this night world and wide,
And that one talent which is expiry to hibernate
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more than aptitude
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. Merely Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth non need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without residuum:
They as well serve who only stand and wait."

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Analysis of the Poem

This poem deals with one's limitations and shortcomings in life. Everyone has them and Milton's blindness is a perfect instance of this. His eyesight gradually worsened and he became totally blind at the age of 42. This happened after he served in an eminent position under Oliver Cromwell's revolutionary Puritan government in England. To put it merely, Milton rose to the highest position an English author might at the time and then sank all the style downwardly to a state of being unable read or write on his own. How pathetic!

The genius of this poem comes in the way that Milton transcends the misery he feels. Get-go, he frames himself, not as an individual suffering or solitary, only as a failed retainer to the Creator: God. While Milton is disabled, God hither is enabled through imagery of a king commanding thousands. This angelic monarch, his ministers and troops, and his kingdom itself are invisible to human being eyes anyway, so already Milton has subtly undone much of his failing by subverting the necessity for human vision. More than straightforwardly, through the phonation of Patience, Milton explains that serving the celestial monarch only requires bearing those hardships, which really aren't that bad (he calls them "mild") that life has encumbered yous with (like a "yoke" put on an ox). This grand mission from heaven may be as simple as standing and waiting, having patience, and understanding the order of the universe. Thus, this is a great poem considering Milton has not only dispelled sadness over a major shortcoming in life just also shown how the shortcoming is itself imbued with an extraordinary and uplifting purpose.

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four. "A Psalm of Life" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

What the heart of the fellow said to the Psalmist

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is only an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is hostage!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou fine art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Detect united states of america further than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and dauntless,
Still, similar muffled drums, are chirapsia
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's wide field of battle,
In the campfire of Life,
Exist not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Time to come, howe'er pleasant!
Let the expressionless Past bury its dead!
Deed,—deed in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
Nosotros tin can make our lives sublime,
And, parting, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of fourth dimension;—

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn master,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart once again.

Let us, and then, exist up and doing,
With a middle for whatsoever fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Assay of the Poem

In this nine-stanza poem, the first six stanzas are rather vague since each stanza seems to begin a new thought. Instead, the accent here is on a feeling rather than a rational railroad train of idea. What feeling? It seems to be a reaction against science, which is focused on calculations ("mournful numbers") and empirical evidence, of which in that location is no, or very fiddling, to prove the being of the soul. Longfellow lived when the Industrial Revolution was in high gear and the ethics of science, rationality, and reason flourished. From this perspective, the fact that the starting time six stanzas do not follow a rational train of thought makes perfect sense.

According to the poem, the force of scientific discipline seems to restrain one's spirit or soul ("for the soul is dead that slumbers"), lead to inaction and complacency from which we must break free ("Act,—deed in the living Nowadays! / Heart within, and God o'erhead!") for lofty purposes such equally Art, Heart, and God before time runs out ("Art is long, and Fourth dimension is fleeting"). The concluding three stanzas—which, having cleaved costless from science by this point in the poem, read more smoothly—suggest that this interim for lofty purposes tin can lead to greatness and can assistance our beau man.

Nosotros might recollect of the entire poem as a clarion phone call to practice great things, however insignificant they may seem in the present and on the empirically observable surface. That may hateful writing a poem and entering it into a poesy competition, when you know the chances of your verse form winning are very pocket-size; risking your life for something you believe in when you know information technology is not popular or it is misunderstood; or volunteering for a cause that, although it may seem hopeless, you experience is truly important. Thus, the greatness of this poem lies in its ability to so clearly prescribe a method for greatness in our modern world.

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3. "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

I wandered lone as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a oversupply,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the galaxy,
They stretched in never-ending line
Forth the margin of a bay:
10 thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not merely exist gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but fiddling thought
What wealth the evidence to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I prevarication
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward centre
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

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Assay of the Poem

Through the narrator'due south chance encounter with a field of daffodils by the water, we are presented with the ability and dazzler of the natural world. Information technology sounds unproblematic plenty, but in that location are several factors that contribute to this poem's greatness. First, the poem comes at a time when the Western world is industrializing and man feels spiritually solitary in the face of an increasingly godless worldview. This feeling is perfectly harnessed by the depiction of wandering through the wilderness "lonely as a deject" and by the ending scene of the narrator sadly lying on his couch "in vacant or in pensive mood" and finding happiness in solitude. The daffodils then become more than than nature; they get a companion and a source of personal joy. 2d, the very simplicity itself of enjoying nature—flowers, copse, the bounding main, the sky, the mountains etc.—is perfectly manifested past the simplicity of the verse form: the four stanzas simply begin with daffodils, describe daffodils, compare daffodils to something else, and end on daffodils, respectively. Any common reader can easily get this poem, as hands equally her or she might enjoy a walk around a lake.

Third, Wordsworth has subtly put forward more than just an ode to nature here. Every stanza mentions dancing and the tertiary stanza even calls the daffodils "a show." At this fourth dimension in England, one might have paid money to see an opera or other performance of high creative quality. Hither, Wordsworth is putting forward the idea that nature can offer similar joys and even give you "wealth" instead of taking it from y'all, undoing the thought that beauty is attached to earthly coin and social status. This, coupled with the language and topic of the verse form, which are both relatively accessible to the common man, make for a peachy poem that demonstrates the all-encompassing and accessible nature of dazzler and its associates, truth and bliss.

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2. "Holy Sonnet x: Expiry, Exist Not Proud" past John Donne (1572-1631)

Decease, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou fine art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor even so canst one thousand kill me.
From balance and slumber, which but thy pictures exist,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more than must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, gamble, kings, and drastic men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make u.s. sleep also
And amend than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
I short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall exist no more; Death, thou shalt die.

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Analysis of the Poem

Decease is a perennial subject field of fear and despair. But, this sonnet seems to say that information technology need non be this way. The highly focused assault on Expiry's sense of pride uses a grocery listing of rhetorical attacks: Kickoff, sleep, which is the closest human experience to expiry, is actually quite nice. 2nd, all great people die sooner or later and the process of death could exist viewed as joining them. Third, Decease is under the command of college authorities such as fate, which controls accidents, and kings, who wage wars; from this perspective, Decease seems no more than than a pawn in a larger chess game within the universe. 4th, Death must associate with some unsavory characters: "poison, wars, and sickness." Yikes! They must make unpleasant coworkers! (You can nigh see Donne laughing every bit he wrote this.) Fifth, "poppy and charms" (drugs) can do the sleep job also equally Death or better. Death, yous're fired!

The sixth, most compelling, and most serious reason is that if one truly believes in a soul and so Death is really zippo to worry most. The soul lives eternally and this explains line four, when Donne says that Death can't kill him. If you lot recognize the subordinate position of the body in the universe and identify more fully with your soul, then you can't be killed in an ordinary sense. Farther, this poem is so great because of its universal application. Fear of death is so natural an instinct and Death itself so extensive and inescapable for people, that the spirit of this verse form and applicability of it extends to almost any fright or weakness of grapheme that one might take. Confronting, caput on, such a fearfulness or weakness, equally Donne has done hither, allows human beings to transcend their condition and their perception of Death, more fully perhaps than one might through art past itself—equally many poets from this summit 10 list seem to say—since the art may or may not survive may or may not be any good, but the intrinsic quality of i's soul lives eternally. Thus, Donne leaves a powerful lesson to learn from: confront what you fearfulness head on and remember that there is nothing to fright on world if you believe in a soul.

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1. "Sonnet 18" by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Shall I compare thee to a summer'south twenty-four hour period?
Thousand art more lovely and more temperate:
Crude winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer'southward lease hath all likewise curt a date:
Erstwhile too hot the eye of sky shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing class, untrimm'd;
Just thy eternal summertime shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair g ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag one thousand wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to fourth dimension thou abound'st;
And then long every bit men can breathe or optics tin can run into,
And so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

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Analysis of the Poem

Basically, the narrator tells someone he esteems highly that this person is better than a summer's twenty-four hour period because a summertime's solar day is often too hot and likewise windy, and peculiarly considering a summer'southward twenty-four hours doesn't last; it must fade away just as people, plants, and animals die. But, this esteemed person does not lose beauty or fade away like a summer'south day considering he or she is eternally preserved in the narrator's ain poetry. "So long lives this, and this gives life to thee" ways "This poetry lives long, and this poetry gives life to you."

From a modernistic perspective this poem might come off as pompous (assuming the greatness of one'south ain poetry), capricious (criticizing a summertime's day upon what seems a whim), and sycophantic (praising someone without substantial evidence). How then could this possibly be number 1? After the bad taste of an former flavor to a modern tongue wears off, we realize that this is the very best of verse. This is not pompous because Shakespeare actually achieves greatness and creates an eternal poem. Information technology is okay to recognize poesy as great if it is keen and it is okay to recognize an artistic hierarchy. In fact, it is admittedly necessary in educating, guiding, and leading others. The set on on a summer'south twenty-four hour period is not arbitrary. Woven throughout the language is an implicit connection between human beings, the natural world ("a summer's solar day"), and sky (the lord's day is "the eye of heaven"). A comparing of a homo to a summer'south day immediately opens the mind to unconventional possibilities; to spiritual perspectives; to the ethereal realm of poetry and beauty. The unabashed praise for someone without a hint as to even the gender or accomplishments of the person is not irrational or sycophantic. It is a pure and simple way of approaching our relationships with other people, assuming the best. It is a happier manner to live—immediately free from the depression, stress, and cynicism that creeps into our hearts. Thus, this poem is strikingly and refreshingly bold, profound, and uplifting.

Finally, as to the question of overcoming death, fearfulness, and the disuse of time, an overarching question in these peachy poems, Shakespeare adroitly answers them all by skipping the question, suggesting it is of no outcome. He wields such sublime power that he is unmoved and tin instead offer remedy, his verse, at will to those he sees befitting. How marvelous!

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Source: https://classicalpoets.org/2016/01/07/10-greatest-poems-ever-written/

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