Coleridge on Math; Music for “Kubla Khan”

I have been coping with computer disasters of astonishing magnitude over the last week or so, but I had to share this wonderful quote with you. Leave it to a poet to tell the truth so very vividly!

“I have often been surprised, that Mathematics, the Quintessence of Truth, should have found admirers so few and so languid– Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at length unraveled the cause– Viz– That, though Reason is feasted, Imagination is starved: whilst Reason is luxuriating in its proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily traveling over a dreary desert.” (From a letter written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge to his brother George, March 31, 1791. He follows this quote with a very funny poem on math.)

Coleridge’s images tend to stick in my mind, and I don’t always care for them, but if you like his classic “Kubla Kahn,” I think you’ll enjoy Juergen Matthias Shroeder’s website with an original symphony inspired by the poem. Shroeder provides an illustrated trip through “Kubla Khan,” with clips of the symphony along the way. He explains which instruments are used, and how each illustrates a portion of the poem. It’s a wonderful lesson in how art, music, and poetry are intertwined.

Read more on “Kubla Khan.”

Death Be Not Proud

In memory of those who died at Virginia Tech, April 16, 2007.

Death Be Not Proud

by John Donne (1573-1631)

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell’st thou then;
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms…

(Deuteronomy 33:27)

Frost’s Prayer in Spring

I love Robert Frost’s gentle reminder to enjoy the beauty of today. It helps me remember to enjoy not only spring, but also my sweet boys. I hope you enjoy the poem as well.

A Prayer in Spring
by Robert Frost (1915)

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.

Celebrate with Free Poems!

In honor of National Poetry Month, I’ve gathered some of my very favorite poems, and I’d love to share them. I’ve created a new mailing list for poetry only, so if you’d like to be inspired with free poems, please sign up at the bottom of the column on the right. You’ll receive one poem a week for as long as you care to. Think of it as a cup of coffee for the soul!

I wandered lonely as a Cloud…

Daffodil-copyright freefoto.comSpring just isn’t spring until I can share Wordsworth’s delight in daffodils. Poetry is experience distilled to its essence. Once you’ve enjoyed an experience through poetry, you’ll find that both experience and poem are enriched.

The daffodils are in full dress in our yard today, like scraps of sunlight scattered about. If you don’t have daffodils in your garden, do plan to plant some bulbs next fall. They’re absolutely easy-care, and they’ll reward you by multiplying year after year.

Enjoy!

Here is the 1815 poem by William Wordsworth:

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o’er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Read more

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