Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the interplay of beauty and melancholy, suggesting a profound appreciation for emotions and experiences.
In this quote, William Wordsworth expresses the idea that true beauty often arises from a combination of joy and sadness. The 'Elysian beauty' evokes images of paradise and perfection, while 'melancholy grace' introduces a sense of depth and contemplation. Wordsworth suggests that these contrasting emotions together create a richer, more meaningful experience, drawing from both happiness and reflective thought.
In practice
This quote can be used during a discussion on the role of emotions in art.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
I paint not the things I see but the feelings they arouse in me.
I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose = words in their best order; - poetry = the best words in the best order.
My dad would go to work every day and write in a room full of funny people. He enjoyed it. I know great writers who find the process agonising but to me, writing has always been sheer joy.
To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart
An artist has to train his responses more than other people do. He has to be as disciplined as a mathematician. Discipline is not a restriction but an aid to freedom. It prepares an artist to choose his own limitations.
Colors in painting are as allurements for persuading the eyes, as the sweetness of meter is in poetry.
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