Search results
11 paź 2017 · Nonetheless, many poets have written about the self, and their individual identity, as the following classic poems about selfhood demonstrate. 1. William Wordsworth, ‘ Tintern Abbey ’. Of kindness and of love …. This is one of Wordsworth’s most famous poems and one of the best-loved of the English Romantic movement.
- T. S. Eliot’s Influential Essay ‘Tradition and The Individual Talent
A reading of Eliot’s classic essay by Dr Oliver Tearle...
- My Own Heart Let Me More Have Pity On
‘My own heart let me more have pity on; let / Me live to my...
- Seduction Poems
Donne wrote several great poems of seduction, so unusually...
- On a Columnar Self
‘On a Columnar Self’ by Emily Dickinson does something which...
- I Am
As Clare’s biographer Jonathan Bate points out, in his...
- Song of Myself
‘Song of Myself’ is perhaps the definitive achievement of...
- Self-Pity
By Dr Oliver Tearle ‘Self-Pity’ is one of the shortest poems...
- Invictus
By Dr Oliver Tearle ‘Invictus’ is a famous poem, even to...
- T. S. Eliot’s Influential Essay ‘Tradition and The Individual Talent
Explore the depths of introspection & personal growth with evocative poetry About Finding Yourself that illuminate the path identity, and inner transformation.
29 sty 2024 · Looking for some beautiful, comforting, yet inspirational words about death and dying? These poems about loss are perfect for funerals.
Poets throughout the ages have explored the intricacies of finding oneself, unearthing hidden truths, and embracing personal growth. These poems serve as a mirror to our own quests for self-identity, providing solace, inspiration, and profound insights.
17 lis 2023 · Her poems capture what it is to be human, from love, joy, and celebration, to sorrow, despair, and death. They inspire readers to wake up from the day-to-day humdrum, take a deep breath and cherish our precious moments on this earth more often.
23 lut 2022 · Discover Mary Oliver poems about death and dying, grief and sorrow, and honoring the life of a loved one.
Dull to myself, and almost dead to these My many fresh and fragrant mistresses; The Dying Child. John Clare; He could not die when trees were green, For he loved the time too well