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The first four lines of this ‘song’ by Keats are so very clever as a metaphor for possessive love..
I HAD a dove and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving:
O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied,
With a silken thread of my own hand’s weaving;
Sweet little red feet! why should you die -
Why should you leave me, sweet bird! why?
You liv’d alone in the forest-tree,
Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me?
I kiss’d you oft and gave you white peas;
Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?
Published in Posthumous & Fugitive Poems
I have posted a review of this very interesting, well researched and accessible biography linking the life of the poet John Keats with the experience of his brother George in Kentucky as one of the early English settlers in America.
It is of interest to lovers of poetry, biography an history - most particularly that of Kentucky and Illinois. You will meet swindlers, enjoy bear grease sandwiches and learn that John Keats’s greatest poetry was directly influenced by the physical distance between the brothers.
Go to by blog No wriggling out of writing for the full review.
Unburn the boat, rebuild the bridge,
Reconsecrate the sacrilege,
Unspill the milk, decry the tears,
Turn back the clock, relive the years
Replace the smoke inside the fire,
Unite fulfilment with desire,
Undo the done, gainsay the said,
Revitalise the buried dead,
Revoke the penalty and the clause,
Reconstitute unwritten laws,
Repair the heart, untie the tongue,
Change faithless old to hopeful young,
Inure the body to disease
And help me to forget you please.
by Duncan Forbes
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