Hartley Coleridge's Song
The earliest wish I ever knew
Was woman's kind regard to win;
I felt it long e're passion grew,
E'er such a wish could be a sin.
And still it lasts;- the yearning ache
No cure has found, no comfort known:
If she did love, twas for my sake,
She could not love me for her own.
Don Paterson was complaining in the Guardian about how hard it is to resurrect a poet who has fallen into neglect, oblivion, whatever. Donne and a couple of the other metaphysicals were salvaged, but presumably this was because the age that did the salvaging was a tad more aware of poetry than ours is. I certainly can't think of an utterly lost poet whose been found within the last thirty years. Any thoughts?
Was woman's kind regard to win;
I felt it long e're passion grew,
E'er such a wish could be a sin.
And still it lasts;- the yearning ache
No cure has found, no comfort known:
If she did love, twas for my sake,
She could not love me for her own.
Don Paterson was complaining in the Guardian about how hard it is to resurrect a poet who has fallen into neglect, oblivion, whatever. Donne and a couple of the other metaphysicals were salvaged, but presumably this was because the age that did the salvaging was a tad more aware of poetry than ours is. I certainly can't think of an utterly lost poet whose been found within the last thirty years. Any thoughts?
posted by Edward Barker at 1:29 AM
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