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Essays on
poetry matters by Martin Lammon Poems,
interviews, essays, and more, featuring a poet who matters to me and, I hope,
to you A poem,
past or present, formal or free verse, that matters. Selected
correspondence from readers who matter Links to
Internet media articles on poetry, other news and events The web
pages of the print version of Arts & Letters |
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John Keats’s grave in “...Here
lies One Whose Name was writ in Water.” |
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Life mask of John Keats |
I
first became acquainted with Keats’s poetry when I was in High School in —ML |
Martin Lammon’s introduction Sometimes I think that
people believe “old” poetry was old-fashioned and easier to read, that
“modern” poetry has all become experimental and inaccessible to the common
reader. John Keats’s sonnet illustrates how poetry in English has a long
history of innovation and experimentation. “If by dull rhymes...” also requires
a thoughtful reading. A casual reader in Keats’s day, as well as our own,
would have little hope of understanding, let alone appreciating, this poem.
Of course, in the early 19th Century, many people lacked much education and
could barely read at all. In short, Keats might have expected anyone who read
his poem to be fairly well-educated. Poems that matter require
readers who seek more than superficial diversion or delight, men and women
who are seeking solace for the mind and the soul. Future poems here will
also feature contemporary works that use language and narrative in ways that
are as accessible (though no less challenging) to readers as any of, say,
Robert Frost’s best and beloved poems. Would you
like to recommend a “Poem that Matters”? See Reader
Response for details. Poems that
Matter Archive John Keats |
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If by dull rhymes our English must be chain’d... If
by dull rhymes our English must be chain’d, And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet Fetter’d, in spite of pained loveliness; Let
us find out, if we must be constrain’d, Sandals more interwoven and complete To
fit the naked foot of poesy; Let
us inspect the lyre, and weigh the stress Of
every chord, and see what may be gain’d By ear industrious, and attention meet: Misers
of sound and syllable, no less Than Midas of his coinage, let us be Jealous of dead leaves in the bay wreath
crown; So,
if we may not let the Muse be free, She will be bound with garlands of her
own. (1818-1819) |
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Return to Arts & Letters:
Poetry Matters Go
to Reader Response to make a comment |
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