Poetry: November 23, 2010 Issue [#4086]
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Poetry


 This week: Robert Shouthey
  Edited by: Stormy Lady Author IconMail Icon
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Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady Author Icon


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Letter from the editor

My Days among the Dead are Past
by Robert Southey

My days among the Dead are past;
Around me I behold,
Where'er these casual eyes are cast,
The mighty minds of old;
My never-failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal,
And seek relief in woe;
And while I understand and feel
How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedew'd
With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are with the Dead, with them
I live in long-past years,
Their virtues love, their faults condemn,
Partake their hopes and fears,
And from their lessons seek and find
Instruction with an humble mind.

My hopes are with the Dead, anon
My place with them will be,
And I with them shall travel on
Through all Futurity;
Yet leaving here a name, I trust,
That will not perish in the dust.


Robert Southey was born in England on August 12, 1774. Robert’s uncle was the one that paid for his education, at fourteen he was sent to the West-minster School. While there he and some classmates were involved with a periodical called “The Flagellant.” This piece eventually got them thrown out of the school. In 1792 Southey enrolled at Balliol College, Oxford. Southey quickly filled his schooling with learning different languages such as Spanish, Greek, and Latin. Southey collected books and built himself a grand library over his lifetime.

Southey wrote and published “Joan of Arc” in 1793. His literary career took off after completing a volume of peorty co-written with Robert Lovell, in 1794. He then went on to write “Wat Tyler,” which was a drama. During this time he met his wife to be Edith Fricker, the two were married in 1795. Coleridge Southey’s friend married Edith sister Sara around the same time. Southey’s wife Edith returned to stay with her parents shortly after the wedding so Southey could finish his studies. Southey travelled to Spain and Portugal. During his absences his brother-in-law and coauthor of his poetry book, Lovell, passed away causing Southey’s return to London.

In 1797 Southey published “Letters from Spain and Portugal.” Southey’s health started failing and he once again left London to go back to Portugal. This time he stayed a year until his health turned around and he headed back to England. “Thalaba, the Destroyer” was printed in 1801. It was followed by of "Metrical Tales" in 1804 and "Madoc," in 1805. "The Curse of Kehama," Southey’s greatest poetical work, can out in 1810. Four years later, Southey published "Roderick, the Last of the Goths." His "Carmen Triumphale" published in 1814, and "The Vision and of Judgment," 1821.

In 1833 Southey’s wife became mentally unstable. She was unable to do anything for herself. Edith lived that way for three long years before passing away. His wife’s illness took a toll on Southey’s health. Southey remarried Miss Bowles, a fellow poet. Southey sadly was never the same after his first wife’s death and within only a few short years his mind began to slip away too. Southey died on March 21, 1843.


The Soldier's Wife
by Robert Southy

Weary way-wanderer languid and sick at heart
Travelling painfully over the rugged road,
Wild-visag'd Wanderer! ah for thy heavy chance!

Sorely thy little one drags by thee bare-footed,
Cold is the baby that hangs at thy bending back
Meagre and livid and screaming its wretchedness.

Woe-begone mother, half anger, half agony,
As over thy shoulder thou lookest to hush the babe,
Bleakly the blinding snow beats in thy hagged face.

Thy husband will never return from the war again,
Cold is thy hopeless heart even as Charity-
Cold are thy famish'd babes-God help thee, widow'd One.


Winter
by Robert Southey

A wrinkled crabbed man they picture thee,
Old Winter, with a rugged beard as grey
As the long moss upon the apple-tree;
Blue-lipt, an icedrop at thy sharp blue nose,
Close muffled up, and on thy dreary way
Plodding alone through sleet and drifting snows.
They should have drawn thee by the high-heapt hearth,
Old Winter! seated in thy great armed chair,
Watching the children at their Christmas mirth;
Or circled by them as thy lips declare
Some merry jest, or tale of murder dire,
Or troubled spirit that disturbs the night,
Pausing at times to rouse the mouldering fire,
Or taste the old October brown and bright.




Thank you all!
Stormy Lady Author Icon
A logo for Poetry Newsletter Editors
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Editor's Picks


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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contestOpen in new Window. [ASR] is:

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This item number is not valid.
#1723921 by Not Available.



That Last Hay Ride

It was the last hayrack ride of the season.
All the leaves colors did deepen.
Winter had begun to beckon.
Crimson Maples were starting to brighten.

While the hay wagon rolled, we shared humor.
Some was light with a bit lending chiller.
Thanks for a blanket thick and warm,
Thanks also for that loose hay to conform.

Comfort was the order of the day,
We were surrounded by the aroma of hay.
Little did we notice the frost?
With our partners our thoughts were star-crossed.

Our spirits were pleasingly blithe.
The air was crisp cutting as a scythe.
We stopped for a wiener roast.
For a time we burnt marsh mellows like toast.

Good times end too soon.
We headed for home gazing at the moon.
That point in time was but a flicker.
Looking back it was a time of good humor.


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These are the rules:

1) You must use the words I give in a poem or prose with no limits on length.

2) The words can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem and can be any form of the word.

3) All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum, "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contestOpen in new Window. [ASR] by December 16, 2010.

4) The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post (December 22, 2010)

The words are:


snow journey written angels music dark clouds


*Delight* Good luck to all *Delight*

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A THANK YOU PRAYER Open in new Window. (E)
Written for Sherri Gibson's Coloring The World Contest using her weekly prompt
#1722956 by COUNTRYMOM-JUST REMEMBER ME Author IconMail Icon

 Neptune Rises Open in new Window. (E)
Neptune Rises in the Gulf
#1724413 by Fyn Author IconMail Icon

Fairies And Dreams Open in new Window. (E)
A little girl meets fairies in the woods.
#1718337 by Princess Megan Snow Rose Author IconMail Icon

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 Invalid Item Open in new Window.
This item number is not valid.
#1723536 by Not Available.

 Invalid Item Open in new Window.
This item number is not valid.
#1725264 by Not Available.

Twilight's Fall Open in new Window. (E)
A short emotional poem.
#1725114 by T.L.Finch Author IconMail Icon

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 Invalid Item Open in new Window.
This item number is not valid.
#1723195 by Not Available.

 Invalid Item Open in new Window.
This item number is not valid.
#1723997 by Not Available.

I Am Open in new Window. (E)
No one ever dies until they are forgotten.
#1725338 by Lilyx* Author IconMail Icon

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