Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems; And e'en the dearest--that I love the best-- Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.
Interpretation
This quote explores the feelings of emptiness and alienation, as well as the complexity of love in times of despair.
In this quote, John Clare reflects on the profound sense of loss and disillusionment he feels as he contemplates the absence of joy and meaning in life. He likens his emotional state to a shipwreck, illustrating how even his deepest affections have become confusing and estranged during his suffering, highlighting the struggle between love and despair.
In practice
This quote can be used in a reflective poem reading to convey feelings of loss and confusion.
I hid my love when young till I_x000D_ Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;_x000D_ I hid my life to my despite_x000D_ Till I could not bear to look at light:_x000D_ I dare not gaze upon her face_x000D_ But left her memory in each place;_x000D_ Where'er I saw a wild flower lie_x000D_ I kissed and bade my love good-bye.
Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn Her death-bed steeps in tears; to hail the May New blooming blossoms neath the sun are born, And all poor April's charms are swept away.
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.
Loud is the summer's busy song_x000D_ _x000D_ The smallest breeze can find a tongue,_x000D_ _x000D_ While insects of each tiny size_x000D_ _x000D_ Grow teasing with their melodies,_x000D_ _x000D_ Till noon burns with its blistering breath_x000D_ _x000D_ Around, and day lies still as death.
I long for scenes where man has never trod; A place where woman never smil'd or wept; There to abide with my creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept: Untroubling and untroubled where I lie; The grass below--above the vaulted sky.
I found the poems in the fields And only wrote them down
What goes on inside is just too fast and huge and all interconnected for words to do more than barely sketch the outlines of at most one tiny little part of it at any given instant.
People are usually more firmly convinced that their opinions are precious than that they are true.
Though the most beautiful creature were waiting for me at the end of a journey or a walk; though the carpet were of silk, the curtains of the morning clouds; the chairs and sofa stuffed with cygnet's down; the food manna, the wine beyond claret, the window opening on Winander Mere, I should not feel -or rather my happiness would not be so fine, as my solitude is sublime.
Commercialism is laying its great greasy paw upon everything including the irresponsible quest of thrills; so that, whatever democracy may be theoretically, one is sometimes tempted to define it practically as standardized and commercialized melodrama.
I told you I would tell you my names. This is what they call me. I'm called Glad-of-War, Grim, Raider, and Third. I am One-Eyed. I am called Highest, and True-Guesser. I am Grimnir, and I am the Hooded One. I am All-Father, and I am Gondlir Wand-Bearer. I have as many names as there are winds, as many titles as there are ways to die. My ravens are Huginn and Muninn, Thought and Memory; my wolves are Freki and Geri; my horse is the gallows.
Hold on, my friends, to the Constitution of your country and the government established under it. Leave evils which exist in some parts of the country, but which are beyond your control, to the all-wise direction of an over-ruling Providence. Perform those duties which are present, plain and positive. Respect the laws of your country.
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