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NNadir

(35,136 posts)
Sat Sep 23, 2023, 07:45 AM Sep 2023

Because I just feel like posting it.

...No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.


T.S. Eliot

"...I do not think they will sing to me..."
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Because I just feel like posting it. (Original Post) NNadir Sep 2023 OP
Love this poem. I Think of it often Walleye Sep 2023 #1
I love this! Alliepoo Sep 2023 #2
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock zanana1 Sep 2023 #3
Then there's Henry Wordsworth Longfellow Backseat Driver Sep 2023 #4

Backseat Driver

(4,651 posts)
4. Then there's Henry Wordsworth Longfellow
Sat Sep 23, 2023, 08:58 AM
Sep 2023

As a fond mother, when the day is o'er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which, though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
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I can't remember being tucked in; I'm an orphan now, still trying to perform motherly duties with at least some gentle self-charity over those always busy nightowls that steal our sleep.

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