Here are some voices, picked almost at random:
John Berryman
[complete]
Theodore Roethke
[from "I Knew a Woman"]
Mark Strand
[from "White"]
Robert Burns
[from "Death and Dr. Hornbook]
John Donne
[from "The Flea"]
Walter De La Mare
[from "Silver"]
John Masefield
[from "Sea Fever"]
Walt Whitman
[from "O Captain! My Captain!"]
e. e. cummings
[complete]
Edna St. Vincent Millay
[from "Renascence"]
... and many others. Trying to rank them is a little bit like trying to get my pants to put themselves on.
John Berryman
Dream Song 14
Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no
Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as Achilles,
who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no
Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as Achilles,
who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
[complete]
Theodore Roethke
Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved.)
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved.)
[from "I Knew a Woman"]
Mark Strand
And out of my waking
the circle of light widens,
it fills with trees, houses,
and stretches of ice.
It reaches out. It rings
the eye with white.
the circle of light widens,
it fills with trees, houses,
and stretches of ice.
It reaches out. It rings
the eye with white.
[from "White"]
Robert Burns
Ev'n them he canna get attended,
Although their face he ne'er had kend it,
Just shitte in a kail-blade, and send it,
As soon's he smells't,
Baith their disease, and what will mend it,
At once he tells't.
Although their face he ne'er had kend it,
Just shitte in a kail-blade, and send it,
As soon's he smells't,
Baith their disease, and what will mend it,
At once he tells't.
[from "Death and Dr. Hornbook]
John Donne
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas! is more than we would do.
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas! is more than we would do.
[from "The Flea"]
Walter De La Mare
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees...
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees...
[from "Silver"]
John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
[from "Sea Fever"]
Walt Whitman
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
The arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
The arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
[from "O Captain! My Captain!"]
e. e. cummings
l(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness
[complete]
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I saw at sea a great fog bank
Between two ships that struck and sank;
A thousand screams the heavens smote;
And every scream tore through my throat.
Between two ships that struck and sank;
A thousand screams the heavens smote;
And every scream tore through my throat.
[from "Renascence"]
... and many others. Trying to rank them is a little bit like trying to get my pants to put themselves on.
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