We '11 take, say, that most perfect of antiques, They call the Genius of the Yaticau, Which seems too beauteous to endure itself In this mixed world, and fasten it for once Upon the torso of the Drunken Tawn, Who might limp surely, if he did not dance J Instead of Buonarroti's mask : what then? Academician against poet, man Against woman, against the living, the dead, — Then home, with a bad headache and worse jest! I think the tears were in them, as he looked — I think the manly mouth just trembled. These crowds are very good For meditation, when we are very strong Though love of beauty makes us timorous. Men do not think Of sons and daughters, when they fall in love, So much more than of sisters ; otherwise. O delight And triumph of the poet,--who would say A man's mere 'yes,' a woman's common 'no,' A little human hope of that or this, And says the word so that it burns you through With a special revelation, shakes the heart Of all the men and women in the world, As if one came back from the dead and spoke, With eyes too happy, a familiar thing Become divine i' the utterance! And this of mine — well, granting to myself Some passion in it, furrowing up the flats. And floated from me like a silent cloud That leaves the sense of thunder. I was touched by much of the imagery and eloquence in the writing.
All men are possible heroes: every age, Heroic in proportions, double-faced, Looks backward and before, expects a morn And claims an epos. You may find her name On all his missions and commissions, schools. She lies here — flat upon her prison-floor, The long hair swathed about her to the heel. And then we '11 have The call to church ; the broken, sad, bad dream Dreamed out at last ; the marriage-vow complete With the marriage-breakfast ; praying in white gloves. Love, to him, was made A simple law-clause. Arrived some letter through the sedulous post. Written in 1847, it recounts the story of the burgeoning eponymous heroine Aurora Leigh who chooses to be a poet instead of following the traditional life-p Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Aurora Leigh just blew me away.
Who knits her brows across her pretty eyes To keep them back from following the grey flight Of doves between the temple-columns. I smiled that all this youth should love me, — sighed That such a love could scarcely raise them up To love what was more worthy than myself; Then sighed again, again, less generously. The lady on my arm is tired, unwell. I never envied Graham his breadth of style. Words that remind you to soar in the heavens and stare at the sewers.
Appearing in more than twenty editions by the end of the 19th century in England and nearly as often in the United States, it was also read in France and Italy. Thin dangling locks, and flat lascivious mouth. Was it an easy read, no. And several after : Romney did not come, Nor my aunt chide me. Although I'm not ultimately comfortable, now that I've finished it, with calling it an epic, I daresay it's nevertheless a masterful novel in blank verse, featuring among its prominent themes the struggle for social equality, feminism, and the empyrean aspirations of the artist. Her autonomy drives the poem forward; she wishes to be able to express her own thoughts and emotions in her art form. Ah, you force me, sir, To be over-bold in speaking of myself,— I, too, have my vocation, —work to do, The heavens and earth have set me, since I changed My father's face for theirs,—and though your world Were twice as wretched as you represent Most serious work, most necessary work, As any of the economists'.
Being observed, When observation is not sympathy. We '11 be calm, And know that, when indeed our Joves come down. To make my sabbath after working- days ; Bloom out your youth beside me, — be my wife. And shut it like the holy book it is, Eeserved for mild-eyed saints to pore upon Betwixt their prayers at vespers. Other topics not worthy of mention here, I imagine: girlish childhoods hemmed in by xenophobia, womanly balances between financial independence and financial security, artistic concerns with constructing social systems versus grounding spiritual welfare, distinguishing between having made a mistake and having made the right mistake at the right time, solidarity out of the spirit of gender and the recognition of all the ills the world wills on the gender after rendering it said gender, etc, etc, etc. Authorised By sight and knowledge, then, you'll speak your mind. In haste I tore the phrase.
Aurora's aunt chastises her for refusing him, telling her that because he is the male heir, he will inherit all of the estate and Aurora will be left with nothing. I worked with patience wliich means almost power. Il tutto filtrato attraverso la potenza e passionalità dei versi che, in alcuni momenti toccano vertici altissimi, vedi il libro dedicato a Muriel nel quale espone la sua tragedia di essere ormai perduto ma, risorto nella maternità, in maniera davvero sublime. She neither sews nor spins, — and takes no thought Of her garments. Herein is argument Tor kings and politicians, but still more Por poets, who bear buckets to the well. Or I saw Fog only, the great tawny weltering fog.
Her mother died when she was four, leaving her father to raise her. In between the gaps Of such irregular work, he drank and slept. And so I am strong to love tliis noble Prance, This poet of the nations, who dreams on And wails on while the household goes to wreck Eor ever, after some ideal good, — Some equal poise of sex, some unvowed love Inviolate, some spontaneous brotherhood. And cousin Eomney well, — and I well too. Our very heart of passionate womanhood.
The young run on before, and see the thing That's coming. Actual rating is closer to 3. About the Series: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the broadest spectrum of literature from around the globe. This marriage, this love, becomes an artistic muse for Aurora, oneness with God is achieved. You love him and you want to marry him, and he comes out with that. Make it tell, ' Interpret it, and set in the light, ' And do not muffle it in a winter-cloak ' As a vulgar bit of shame, — as if, at best, ' A Leidi had made a misalliance and blushed ' A Howard should know it.