Some articles on poem, poems:
... Composed mainly between February 1910 and July or August 1911, the poem was first published in Chicago in the June 1915 issue of Poetry A Magazine of Verse, after Ezra Pound, the magazine's foreign editor ... done one or the other, but never both." This was Eliot's first publication of a poem outside school or university ... In November 1915 (see 1915 in poetry), the poem—along with Eliot's "Portrait of a Lady," "The Boston Evening Transcript," "Hysteria," and "Miss Helen Slingsby"—was published in London in ...
... "The Unknown Citizen" is a poem by W ... The poem was first published in 1939 in The New Yorker, and first appeared in book form in Auden's collection Another Time (Random House, 1940) ... The poem is the epitaph of a man, identified only by a combination of letters and numbers somewhat like an American Social Security number ("JS/07/M/378"), who is described ...
... Like many of Eliot's poems, "The Love Song of J ... Laurence Perrine identifies the following allusions in the poem In "Time for all the works and days of hands" (29) the phrase 'works and days' is the ... "there is time" are reminiscent of the opening line of that poem "Had we but world enough and time" ...
... His earliest unpublished poems that he circulated in manuscript through his friends in the military were pornographic in the extreme, with elements of ... These poems were published only once, in 1936, as part of a scholarly edition of Lermontov's complete works (edited by Irakly Andronikov) ... During his lifetime, Lermontov published only one slender collection of poems (1840) ...
... In the drafts, the poem had the subtitle "Prufrock among the Women." Eliot said "The Love Song of" portion of the title came from "The Love Song of Har Dyal," a poem by Rudyard. 1950 letter, Eliot said, "I did not have, at the time of writing the poem, and have not yet recovered, any recollection of having acquired this name in ...
Famous quotes containing the word poem:
“The poem goes from the poet’s gibberish to
The gibberish of the vulgate and back again.
Does it move to and fro or is it of both
At once? Is it a luminous flittering
Or the concentration of a cloudy day?”
—Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)
“From this the poem springs: that we live in a place
That is not our own and, much more, not ourselves
And hard it is in spite of blazoned days.”
—Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)
“There were ghosts that returned to earth to hear his phrases,
As he sat there reading, aloud, the great blue tabulae.
They were those from the wilderness of stars that had expected more.
There were those that returned to hear him read from the poem of life,
Of the pans above the stove, the pots on the table, the tulips among them.
They were those that would have wept to step barefoot into reality....”
—Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)