Here's a good "explication" of "A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day." I say explication in quotations because the writer honestly admits that he doesn't know what the poem means or even what is Donne's attitude toward love. The writer explores the possible meanings, which for me is always the best way to talk about poems anyway.
http://unix.cc.wmich.edu/~cooneys/tchg/ ... urnal.html

298. "Rose-cheeked Laura," by Thomas Campion. Harmon's note: This lyric is one of the most successful of the many Elizabethan experiments in basing versification on principles drawn from classical antiquity. It contains no rhyme, the rhythm is based on quantity (length of syllable) as well as quality (accent), lines are made up of different kinds of foot, and a word may be broken at the end of a line--a very rare occurrence in serious poetry. (Note that: "concent" is "harmonious music-making.")

Rose-cheek'd Laura, come,
Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's
Silent music, either other
Sweetly gracing.

Lovely forms do flow
From concent divinely framed;
Heav'n is music, and thy beauty's
Birth is heavenly.

These dull notes we sing
Discords need for helps to grace them;
Only beauty purely loving
Knows no discord,

But still moves delight,
Like clear springs renew'd by flowing,
Ever perfect, ever in them-
selves eternal.

297. "Where the Bee sucks, There suck I," by William Shakespeare. The "airy spirit" Ariel sings this happy song, looking forward to being freed from service to Prospero.

Where the bee sucks there suck I:
In a cow-slip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On a bat's back I do fly
after summer merrily,
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

296. "Farewell! Thou Art Too Dear for My Possessing," by William Shakespeare. I don't feel "liking" toward this sonnet, as hazardous as it might be to criticize the master. The poem revolves too much around wordplay and analogy with finance and law; it's a puzzle for the intellect that doesn't open up into significant feeling, for me.

FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.

For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? 5
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.

Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking; 10
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgment making.

Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter—
In sleep, a king; but waking, no such matter.

PREVIEW OF THE NEXT 100 POEMS

Maybe this might help increase interest? Between now and 200, we're going to see the following familiar poems that people might enjoy reading again (listed in descending order). Then there are the unfamiliar others, the introductions that could become favorites. This is the valuable feature of the "Top 500" approach for me.

"The Circus Animals' Desertion," Yeats
"My Life closed twice before its close," Dickinson
"The Charge of the Light Brigade," Tennyson
"Il Pensero," Milton (oooh!)
"Lord Randal," anonymous
"A Supermarket in California," Ginsberg
"Those Winter Sundays," Hayden
"In a Station in the Metro," Pound
"Acquainted with the Night," Frost
"After Apple-Picking," Frost
"When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed," Whitman
"Bright Star," Keats
"My Heart Leaps Up," Wordsworth
"anyone lived in a pretty how town," cummings
"Sweeney Among the Nightingales," Eliot
"Birches," Frost
"The Wild Swans at Coole," Yeats
"I like to see it lap the miles," Dickinson
"Thanatopsis," Bryant
"L'Allegro," Milton
"The Dance," Williams
"The Idea of Order at Key West," Stevens
"The soul selects her own society," Dickinson
"O Captain, My Captain," Whitman
"The Owl and the Pussycat," Lear
"The Snow-Storm," Emerson
"To a Mouse," Burns (yes!)

I'm excited about "To a Mouse" as well! I recognize a number of those from high school. I can't wait to read these familiar poems, not to mention the others you have in store for us!

DWill wrote:PREVIEW OF THE NEXT 100 POEMS

Maybe this might help increase interest? Between now and 200, we're going to see the following familiar poems that people might enjoy reading again (listed in descending order). Then there are the unfamiliar others, the introductions that could become favorites. This is the valuable feature of the "Top 500" approach for me.

What a good idea! I was thinking of doing a sum up of peoples favorites for the 500-401 and 400-301. If I can find a chunk of time I think I will.

There are several of those I am looking forward to as well. some from high school, others because my parents loved them, and some intriguing titles I have never met as well.

Thank you froglipz, Seraphim, and Saffron for the encouraging feedback!

I agree, but am too tired to go into much detail. I'm still here, lurking in the shadows. I'll come out when something really strikes my fancy. But I'm always here.

I, too, have been lurking in the shadows, albeit not online--just trying to find some respite from the heatwave we are having here in Europe. France was lovely but exceedingly hot and we returned to an even hotter Germany (highly unusual). And few places here have air-conditioning as it is usually not needed.
So, back at the desk, ready to go! Bring on the poems!

(And dwill, once again, 1000 thanks for taking on this project).

Lurkers are quite important always. Welcome back, oblivion. We were up from Virginia to Massachusetts last week, and there the temps were over 100 as well. As in Germany, many in New England don't bother with cooling their homes because the hot season isn't usually extreme. Down here, air conditioning seems like a necessity (whether it really is or not).

I'm watching the Tour de France on TV, and feeling a little cooler just by watching the riders pound the cobblestones and climb the hills in 95-degree heat.

295. "My True Love Hath My Heart," by Sir Philip Sidney. I suppose the first question is whether the poet is assuming a female persona or is writing to another man. I would guess from a similar situation in Shakespeare's sonnets that this is man-to-man.

My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a bargain better driven.
His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;
He loves my heart for once it was his own;
I cherish his because in me it bides.
His heart his wound receivèd from my sight;
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;
For as from me on him his hurt did light,
So still methought in me his hurt did smart:
Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,
My true love hath my heart and I have his.