Poetry - poems Flashcards

1
Q

Whoso list to hunt, I know ehere is an hind…

A

Thomas Wyatt: Whoso List to Hunt. Rennaissance.

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2
Q

Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part; Nay I have done, you get no more of me…

A

Michael Drayton: Since there’s no help”. Rennaisance.

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3
Q

License my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.

A

John Donne: Going to bed. Rennaisance.

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4
Q

O mistress mine! Where are you roaming: O! Stay and hear; your true love’s coming…

A

Shakespeare. Trochaic tetrameter.

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5
Q

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is a-flying…

A

Robert Herrick: To virgins make much of time. 1600’s.

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6
Q

Who will fairest book of nature know / How virtue may best lodg’d in beauty be…

A

Sir Philip Sidney: From Astrophel and Stella (1591). His book of a 100 sonnets.

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7
Q

One day I wrote her name upon the strand, but came the waves and washed it away…

A

Edmund Spenser: From Amoretti. 1500’s

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8
Q

My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun…

A

Shakespeare: from Sonnets (1609)

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9
Q

Me-thinks already, from this chymic flame / I see a city of more preciius mold…

A

John Dryden: from Annus Mirabilis (1666)

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10
Q

All my past life is mine no more / The flying hours are gone….

A

John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester: Love and Life. Late 1600’s.

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11
Q

As virtous men pass midly away, and whisper to their souls to go…

A

John Donne: A valediction: forbiddning mourning.

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12
Q

Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime…

A

Andrew Marvell: To his Coy mistress. Late 1600’s

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13
Q

When I consider how my light is spent / Ere half my days in this dark world and wide…

A

John Milton, 1600’s

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14
Q

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man…

A

Alexander Pope: An essay on man in four epistles. 1700’s

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15
Q

I wander thro each charter’d street, Near where the charter’d Thames does flow…

A

William Blake: London. 1794.

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16
Q

Earth has not anything to show more fair: dull would he be of soul who could pass by…

A

William Wordsworth: Composed upon westminister bridge, 1802.

17
Q

Much have i travelled in the realms of gold…

A

John Keats: On first looking into Chapman’s Homer. 1816.

18
Q

O wild west wind, thou breath of autumn’s being…

A

Percy Bysshe Shelley. Ode to the West Wind. 1819

19
Q

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d; on burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode…

A

Alfred, Lord Tennyson: The lady of shalott (his version of legends about King Arthur). Victorian period.

20
Q

Half a league, half a leauge / half a league onward, all in the valley of death…

A

Alfred, Lord Tennysonn: from The charge of light brigade. About a big loss in the Crimean war.

21
Q

I sometimes hold it half a sin / to put in words the grief I feel…

A

Alfred, Lord Tennyson: In memoriam A.H.H.
About the loss of his best friend and brother in law Athur Hallam.

22
Q

Sunset and evening star, / And one clear call for me….

A

Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Crossing the bar. His final poem.

23
Q

Will sprawl now that the heat of day is best, flat on his belly in the pit’s much mire…

A

Robert Browning: Caliban upon Setebos. Victorian. About colonizing.

24
Q

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe…

A

Lewis Carroll: Jabberwocky (from through the looking glass). Nonsense verse!

25
Q

Jenny kissed me when we met, jumping from the chair se sat in…

A

Leigh Hunt: Rondeau. Victorian.

26
Q

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

A

Elizabeth Barrett Browning: Sonnets from the Portugese. Victorian.

27
Q

That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall…

A

Robert Browning: My last duchess. Victorian. Dramatic monologue.

28
Q

Does the road wind uphill all the way? Yes, to the very end…

A

Christina Rossetti: Uphill. Victorian.

29
Q

The sea is calm to-night. /The tide is full, the moon lies fair..

A

Matthew Arnold: Dover beach. Victorian.

30
Q

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaiming it on you…

A

Rudyard Kippling: If.
Victorian

31
Q

April is the crullest month, breeding lilcas out of the dead land…

A

T.S Eliot: The waste land (1922)

32
Q

If I should die, think only this of me: that there’s some corner of a foreign field that is for ever England.

A

Rupert Brooke: The soldier. Written in 1914.

33
Q

(extract from inferno)
Let us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky like a patient etherized upon a table.

A

T.S Eliot: The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock. 1915.

34
Q

About suffering they were never wrong, the old masters…

A

W.H. Auden: Musee des beaux arts. 1900’s. Brussels. About the flemish masters.

35
Q

They fuck you up, your mum an dad….

A

Philip Larkin: This be the verse. 1971.

36
Q

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks…

A

Wilfred Owen: Dulce et decorum est. published post mortem in 1920.