|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE WORLD, by CHARLES COTTON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Fie! What a wretched world is this! Last Line: With death, that hourly waits for me. Subject(s): Earth; World | |||
I FIE! What a wretched World is this! Nothing but anguish, griefs, and fears, Where, who does best, must do amiss, Frailty the ruling power bears In this our dismal vale of tears. II Oh! who would live, that could but die, Die honestly, and as he should, Since to contend with misery Will do the wisest man no good, Misfortune will not be withstood. III The most that helpless man can do Towards the bett'ring his estate Is but to barter woe for woe, And he ev'n there attempts too late, So absolute a Prince is Fate. IV But why do I of Fate complain? Man might live happy, if not free, And Fortune's shocks with ease sustain, If Man would let him happy be: Man is Man's foe, and Destiny. V And that rib Woman, though she be But such a little little part; Is yet a greater Fate than he, And has the power, or the art To break his peace; nay break his heart. VI Ah, glorious Flower, lovely piece Of superfine refined clay, Thou poison'st only with a kiss, And dartest an auspicious ray On him thou meanest to betray. VII These are the World, and these are they That life does so unpleasant make, Whom to avoid there is no way But the wild desert straight to take, And there to husband the last stake. VIII Fly to the empty deserts then, For so you leave the World behind, There's no World where there are no men, And brutes more civil are, and kind, Than Man whose reason passions blind. IX For should you take an hermitage, Tho' you might 'scape from other wrongs, Yet even there you bear the rage Of venomous, and slanderous tongues, Which to the innocent belongs. X Grant me then, Heav'n, a wilderness, And there an endless Solitude, Where though wolves howl, and serpents hiss, Though dangerous, 'tis not half so rude As the ungovern'd Multitude. XI And Solitude in a dark cave, Where all things hushed, and silent be, Resembleth so the quiet grave, That there I would prepare to flee, With Death, that hourly waits for me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BROKEN BALANCE by ROBINSON JEFFERS SUBJECTED EARTH by ROBINSON JEFFERS GEOMETAPHYSICS by MARGARET AVISON NIAGARA by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS SOPHISTICATION by CONRAD AIKEN I SEE CHILE IN MY REARVIEW MIRROR by AGHA SHAHID ALI WASHING OUR HANDS OF THE REST OF AMERICA by MARVIN BELL THE EARTH IS A LIVING THING by LUCILLE CLIFTON AN EPITAPH ON M.H. by CHARLES COTTON LAURA SLEEPING; ODE by CHARLES COTTON RESOLUTION OF A POETICAL QUESTION CONCERNING FOUR RURAL SISTERS: 2 by CHARLES COTTON |
|