Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot is the story of two tramps, Vladimir and Estragon who meet at a country roadside spot, waiting for Godot, an enigmatic being, but he never arrives. His non-arrival provides the only fact about him in the whole pay. Many attempts have been made to identify Godot and... Sign in to see full entry.
Prelude is the greatest long poem in the English language after Paradise Lost. Its comparison with the great seventeenth-century epic is in some respects a happy one since Milton was (after Coleridge) Wordsworth's greatest idol. The Prelude, despite its epic proportions (he wrote it intermittently... Sign in to see full entry.
Modem critics have held many different views of Milton’s Paradise Lost. Among these the major objection has been that the Book, a twelve volume epic, is militantly Christian and does not adhere to diverse viewpoints of the modern age. Milton’s religious views are actually a mirror of the age in... Sign in to see full entry.
No living thing appeared in earth or air, And, save the flowing water’s peaceful voice, Sound there was none - but, Lo! an uncouth shape. Shown by the sudden turning of the road, So near that slipping back into the shade Of a thick hawthorn, I could mark him well Myself unseen. He was of stature... Sign in to see full entry.
“Lycidas”. by John Milton (1608 – 1674) is technically speaking, a pastoral elegy. Death is the inspiration and sole theme of an elegy, and one of its subtype is the pastoral elegy originated by the Sicilian Greek poets – Theocritus, Bion and Moschus, their funeral dirges being known in antiquity as... Sign in to see full entry.
Directed by the body of the mind Forgetting all sane, good teachings behind Our sense organs again and again follow Helplessly, committing sins after sins shallow Manifestations of our boggy innards Tendencies - those craggy cowards Generations of wombs violent Sired by consciousness somnolent... Sign in to see full entry.
The English poet laureate of the mid-eighteenth century, William Collins, was regarded by Swinburne as a solitary song-bird amidst the poets of his age. But, in the opinion of H.W. Garrod, Collins is not a singer, nor is there passion in his odes. Elevation his odes have, but the wings, fire, the... Sign in to see full entry.
Cool light! Arrows peaceful, Cupid-like, — doled out from the moon Gifts away its all - received from the sun, keeping none; it befits - An ailing eye benefits from rubbing the sole of the feet The belly says ‘thank you' to the hands that feed Nectarine rain from heavens is left thirsty unless it... Sign in to see full entry.
Love is intrinsic to human nature, inherent in man It is there already, but dormant; all it needs Done is to awaken, uncover it, not acquire From without but unearth its source within Deep inside the earth connected is the sea, Oceans of riverine waters of life, unseen Effort is only to remove the... Sign in to see full entry.
It was after forty years in 1913 that Thomas Hardy revisited Cornwall, a county to the south of the English Channel, where he had first wooed his heartthrob, Emma, who had then died just a year before. This hallowed place of love where he had once experienced the joys of life is now but only a sad... Sign in to see full entry.