Milton, Wordsworth, McGonagall, and EliotFour Poems Possibly Written by Someone Else, by James A. Tweedie The Society July 2, 2021 Beauty, Culture, Humor, Poetry 17 Comments . On Death and Life not by John Milton Ere Death’s foul fetters drag me to my tombAs fodder for the very maw of hell,Should not my weary, failing soul rebelAnd seek release from sin’s eternal doom? For didst not Eden’s God deign to presumeTo breathe eternal life into the shellOf mortal dust in which our spirits dwell?And by His Son prepare for us a room? O Death defied! Thou shall not have thy way!For by the blood of Heaven’s sinless LambThe curse of Adam has been set aside,And I, redeemed by He who is I AM,Shall be reborn and led by He who diedFrom endless night into eternal day. . , Loughrigg Fell not by William Wordsworth How often have I faced the bitter chillOf winter wind amidst the barren hillsThat rise above the shadowed, sheltered grovesAnd brackened glens where whispered memoriesOf summers past still echo in the splashAnd dance of springs whose waters once refreshedThe lips of lovers who, in secret trystsSought sweet delights unseen by displeased eyes. Yet even in the frosted, moorland heathThe thought of chimney smoke and fire withinA humble cottage built from thatch and stoneBreathes life into my numb and frozen soul.For what we seek to find at heaven’s gateOr on the throne of patriarchs and queensMay well be found behind a rough-hewn cottage doorThat we have passed, unseen, a thousand times before. . , Forgive Me, Little Bird not by William McGonagall Forgive me, little bird, for I have sinned.The hedge in which you built your house, I trimmed;And saw the sparrow’s nest you neatly woveAnd five dappled eggs—too small to be a dove’s. I tried to cover it with severed twigsAnd various assorted leaves and sprigsFrom other plants I cut that grew nearbyBecause I did not want the eggs to die. But you, O grieving mother never came,And to my disappointment, guilt and shame,That after I have watched two full weeks pass,The five-still unhatched eggs remain, alas! It must be hard to be a bird, I think;To lay up eggs and nests and have them sink. . , Port Nam Mairtear not by T.S. Eliot With sleeves unrolled we leaveIndented silhouettes of laced__and leathered feetUpon the shell-strewn, wind-swept shore. With feigned indifference we closeOur eyes to memories__of dying monksWho, felled by sword and spear,Intoned their final, silent prayers upon__these stones. Their ancient blood cries outAs screeching seagulls squawk__Pater dimitte illisThinking that their voices are their own. But we know better,As Te absolvsos echo in the winding stair__that leads usTo the final door which opensTo a blinding, dim unknown. . , James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and three collections of poetry including Mostly Sonnets, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in The Lyric, Poetry Salzburg (Austria) Review, California Quarterly, Asses of Parnassus, Lighten Up Online, Better than Starbucks, WestWard Quarterly, Society of Classical Poets, and The Chained Muse. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 17 Responses David Paul Behrens July 2, 2021 These are all wonderful poems! Reply Allegra Silberstein July 2, 2021 Thanks for sharing these poems…Allegra Reply David Watt July 2, 2021 What a lovely set of poems! “Forgive Me, Little Bird” provided me with a good laugh, especially when reading the concluding couplet. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant July 3, 2021 James, I love this inspirational idea and its clever execution. I too love the smile of a poem, “Forgive Me, Little Bird” which is evidently ‘not by William McGonagall’ – it’s far too good!! Great stuff! Reply James A. Tweedie July 3, 2021 Susan, I find it more difficult to write a bad poem in imitation of McGonagall than to write one in imitation of a greater poet. Go figure. I would be interested to hear from you or anyone else how I could have improved my imitative efforts? For example, my entire Wordsworth poem is comprised of only three sentences. Is there any precedent for this in Wordsworth’s own poetry? And the rhyme pattern of the closing Milton sestet ABCBCA–was that ever used by Milton? Reply Joseph S. Salemi July 3, 2021 The problem with your version of McGonagall is that it is metrical. McGonagall had no conception of what meter is, and his poetry shows it. Julian D. Woodruff July 3, 2021 Mr. Tweedie, I hope someone else addresses your question here. On Milton: 1) should it be “didst” or “did” (line 5)?; 2) “shall” or shalt” (line 9?; 3) “He” or “Him” (lines 12, 13)? On the rhyme scheme, maybe M would have just scratched his head a moment. In any case 4 very accomplished poems–thanks! James A. Tweedie July 3, 2021 Dr. S, LOL! I completely agree. I have forced myself (painfully) to try it again. Any better? (or should I say, “Any worse?”) Forgive me, little bird, for I have sinned. The hedge where you built your house, I trimmed; And uncovered the nest you wove With five dappled eggs—a sparrow’s but not a dove’s. I tried to cover it with twigs And other leaves and sprigs That were growing nearby Because I did not want the eggs to die. But the mother never came, And to my eternal shame, That after I watched two weeks pass, The unhatched eggs remained, alas! To be a bird must be hard, I think; To lay eggs and then have them stink. Reply Mike Bryant July 3, 2021 Almost imperfect! Reply Paul Freeman July 3, 2021 Let me tell you about a poet by the name of Tweedie at aping my style he was fair, not at all weedie. He tried to imitate the great works of the Scottish poet McGonagall but to tell the truth he could con some, but not con us all. Thanks for the reads. I really enjoyed Wordsworth. Reply James A. Tweedie July 3, 2021 Lol thanks for the smile. Reply James A. Tweedie July 4, 2021 Note to Julian, Thank you for pointing these three things out. I believe that the “did” would be correct insofar as Eden is personified as a 3rdperson singular, thereby being the equivalent of “he or it did. Similarly “shalt” would be correct instead of “shall” since “shalt” would be used with 2nd person singular. “He”, however, is correct as in “He who is I Am.” First, because if the “who” was removed we would have “him is” which is clearly wrong. Also, the 1611 KJV uses similar language in 1 John 4:4 “greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world.” (subsequent versions frequently read “greater is he who is in you.” It is quite possible that Milton might have written my line as “He that is I AM.” But I think I am correct with this line. Thanks for pointing out these matters. I shall make the corrections on my copy of the poem forthwith. You might be interested in noting that a similar series of very helpful comments regarding Elizabethan grammar appeared in response to one of my previous posts titled “Three Sonnets in an Antiquated Style.” I encourage you to visit the poem and scroll down to the comments where Christina and Dr. Salemi offer wise and corrective guidance. https://classicalpoets.org/2019/07/13/three-sonnets-in-an-antiquated-style-by-james-a-tweedie/ Reply Julian D. Woodruff July 5, 2021 Thank you, James, for your careful reply, and for providing the link to Prof. Salemi’s enlightening comments on your 3o of earlier sonnets (beauties, by the way). I am still in doubt on the 3rd point above, though. I’ve read no Tyndale, and little of the James I Bible, and am unaware of the grammatical “state of flux” Prof. Salemi refers to; but your example from King James seems to me conventional nominative, and so does not satisfy as to “how they used to do it.” What comes to my mind is “I’ll make a corse of him that disobeys” (Richard III, Act l (?), ii), where the context and usage are objective. I”m not denying, for the moment, that there are examples from that period where nominative use replaces objective in an objective context–merely saying I don’t recall seeing one. In your own “For love of him,” you use the objective conventionally in the title and at “I sing of thee, whose love has made me whole”; in “Pledge” the relative “whom” seems to serve both objective and nominative antecedents:”To thee I pledge my troth … Whom God has joined …” If I read this correctly, it would qualify as poetic license, I think, and pretty adroit at that. But what is the tradition that calls for nominative in an objective context? Is there a consistent point to the practice? Can you find me 1-2 good examples? Reply Joseph S. Salemi July 6, 2021 When a preposition precedes a pronoun, the pronoun is normally in the objective case (by him, to him, for him, on him, with him). But when that same pronoun is positioned so as to also be the subject of its own verb, you have a grammatical knot that is hard to untangle. One solution is to avoid the structure totally in composition. But if that cannot be done, then the writer has, in my opinion, a certain latitude in his choice. Look at Tweedie’s line: /And I, redeemed by He who is I AM/ Should “He” be replaced by “Him”? In this instance I would say no, because the resulting structure (“Him who is”) is utterly un-English in the way it grates upon the ear. But in addition, the context of reference (the very essence of the Almighty) demands an unsubordinated pronoun in the subjective case. Julian’s quote from Richard III shows the basic difference. When Richard says /I’ll make a corse of him that disobeys/ the basic context is purely secular, and the emphasis is on the threat of immediate action that will kill someone. Hence the objective “him” sounds perfectly appropriate. It is true that in Elizabethan and Jacobean times, the language was in flux. The strict separation of /who/ and /that/, reserving the former for reference to persons, and the latter for reference to animals or objects, was not in force, as the above quote from Richard III indicates. As Tweedie points out, subsequent more modern versions of 1 John 4:4 replace “that” with “who.” Julian D. Woodruff July 6, 2021 I think you may be right, Joseph. It’s true that the Amplified Bible Classical Ed., c1954, translates Jn 8:7 “… let him who is without sin …,” but this seems exceptional, and in any case doesn’t refer to Our Lord. Still, if it had read “let he among you who is …,” I’d grit my teeth. Your wanting to prefer the nominative when referring to the divine recalls John Mortimer’s comic, always nominative “she who must be obeyed,” Rumpole’s descriptor of his wife’. I’d love it if you can come up with 1-2 particularly awkward uses of the objective on and particularly authoritative uses of the nominative on in the sort of context we’re discussing. Reply Joseph S. Salemi July 6, 2021 “Fear not — speak unto her that hath thy heart in thrall…” The problem could be solved here by rewriting “Fear not — speak unto her, the lady that hath thy heart in thrall.” “I wait for them that are my enemies…” The problem could be solved here by rewriting with a colon — “I wait for them: my enemies.” The basic idea is that if you can produce something appositional to the pronoun (rather than allowing the pronoun to govern its own verb) you avoid the problem. The very best book for understanding the differences between Elizabethan/Jacobean grammar and that of modern English is E.A. Abbott’s A Shakespearian Grammar (London, 1870), especially the section on relative pronouns for the issues raised here. There is a modern reprint of the text by Dover Press. (By the way, the title does say “Shakespearian,” although we today spell it “Shakespearean.”) Reply Julian D. Woodruff July 7, 2021 Thanks, Joseph. This sounds like a valuable resource for Shakespeare and for the amazing group of his contemporaries. Reply Leave a Reply to Julian D. Woodruff Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.