X

Today, a sampling of X poems (or rather XXX poems–LOL), not written by me.  Love, death, and sonnets?  You could ask for more…but why?  (No, x!)

Amoretti and Epithalamion
Sonnet XXX. My love is like to ice, and I to fire
Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)
MY love is like to ice, and I to fire;
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolv’d through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat         5
Is not delay’d by her heart-frozen cold;
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
And feel my flames augmented manifold!
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice;         10
And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by wonderful device!
  Such is the power of love in gentle mind,
  That it can alter all the course of kind.

Sonnet XXX
by William Shakespeare

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear times’ waste;
Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish’d sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoanéd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor’d and sorrows end.

Sonnet XXX
    Edna St. Vincent Millay

Love is not all: It is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain,
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
and rise and sink and rise and sink again.
Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
pinned down by need and moaning for release
or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It may well be.  I do not think I would.
From Fatal Interview (1931)

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One thought on “X

  1. Huzzah! We’ve made it almost to Z! I hope you had fun, read interesting things, and had lots of visitors!
    There will be an A to Z Reflections round on May 4th with a Linky posted on the main blog http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com
    You may post your reflections on the challenge, visit others, and catch up on the blogs you didn’t have time to read.

Overheard at a kiln: "The main teaching of all religions is, don't be a dick." You heard the man--comment away, but...you know...

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