Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds, Continue reading
Sonnet 116: “Let me not to the marriage of true minds…”
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Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Wide brown land
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror �
The wide brown land for me!
We had to say this at school in the fifties – over and over and the imprinting sticks. I love the place. Went there recently for the Psychodrama Conference in Brisbane, spent a week in northern NSW, driving around, camping, the poem kept rolling through my head, especially when there were floods or sweeping pains. I saw plenty of both while there.
Ithaca
Always keep Ithaca fixed in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for long years;
and even to anchor at the isle when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Love this poem by Constantine Cavafy. Thanks Stephen, for sending it along a few years ago.
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