Song: to Celia [Drink to me only with thine eyes]

BY BEN JONSON
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And Ill not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Joves nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sentst it back to me;
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.
Summary

In the first stanza, the speaker stands before an ancient Grecian urn and addresses it. He is preoccupied with its
depiction of pictures frozen in time. It is the still unravishd bride of quietness, the foster-child of silence and slow
time. He also describes the urn as a historian that can tell a story. He wonders about the figures on the side of the
urn and asks what legend they depict and from where they come. He looks at a picture that seems to depict a group of
men pursuing a group of women and wonders what their story could be: What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
/ What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

In the second stanza, the speaker looks at another picture on the urn, this time of a young man playing a pipe, lying
with his lover beneath a glade of trees. The speaker says that the pipers unheard melodies are sweeter than mortal
melodies because they are unaffected by time. He tells the youth that, though he can never kiss his lover because he
is frozen in time, he should not grieve, because her beauty will never fade. In the third stanza, he looks at the trees
surrounding the lovers and feels happy that they will never shed their leaves. He is happy for the piper because his
songs will be for ever new, and happy that the love of the boy and the girl will last forever, unlike mortal love, which
lapses into breathing human passion and eventually vanishes, leaving behind only a burning forehead, and a
parching tongue.

In the fourth stanza, the speaker examines another picture on the urn, this one of a group of villagers leading a heifer
to be sacrificed. He wonders where they are going (To what green altar, O mysterious priest...) and from where they
have come. He imagines their little town, empty of all its citizens, and tells it that its streets will for evermore be silent,
for those who have left it, frozen on the urn, will never return. In the final stanza, the speaker again addresses the urn
itself, saying that it, like Eternity, doth tease us out of thought. He thinks that when his generation is long dead, the
urn will remain, telling future generations its enigmatic lesson: Beauty is truth, truth beauty. The speaker says that
that is the only thing the urn knows and the only thing it needs to know.

625. Ode on a Grecian Urn

THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness,

Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,

Sylvan historian, who canst thus express

A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:

What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
5
Of deities or mortals, or of both,

In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?

What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?

What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
10


Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,

Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
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Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

Though winning near the goalyet, do not grieve;

She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,

For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
20


Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed

Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;

And, happy melodist, unwearid,

For ever piping songs for ever new;

More happy love! more happy, happy love!
25
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,

For ever panting, and for ever young;

All breathing human passion far above,

That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,

A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
30


Who are these coming to the sacrifice?

To what green altar, O mysterious priest,

Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,

And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?

What little town by river or sea-shore,
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Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,

Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?

And, little town, thy streets for evermore

Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell

Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
40


O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede

Of marble men and maidens overwrought,

With forest branches and the trodden weed;

Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought

As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
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When old age shall this generation waste,

Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,

'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'
50

Sonnet29
The speaker of this sonnet says he's completely bummed and that he's been bawling his eyes out over his pathetic life and
all of his misfortune. He says he's all alone and feels alienated and unsuccessful. Heck. Even God is ignoring him and
won't return his phone calls.
He says he wishes he was rich and had something to hope for. Also, he totally wishes he was good looking, popular with
friends, and talented like some other dudes he knows. But he's not, which is why nothing seems fun anymorenot even
the stuff he used to enjoy doing.
Just as our bummed out speaker is thinking about all the stuff he used to really dig, he suddenly remembers a special
person in his life and his mood begins to shift in a big, dramatic way. The mere thought of this unnamed mystery person
makes our speaker so unbelievably happy and hopeful that he feels like a bird (a "lark," to be exact) that rises up and sings
to the heavens.
Finally, our speaker concludes that, hey, life is pretty great after all. Even though this unnamed person isn't exactly around
right now, just thinking about his or her "sweet love" makes our speaker feel like the luckiest guy everso lucky that he
wouldn't trade places with anyone else for all the money and power in the world.
SONNET 29 PARAPHRASE
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, When Ive fallen out of favor with fortune and men,
I all alone beweep my outcast state All alone I weep over my position as a social outcast,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And pray to heaven, but my cries go unheard,
And look upon myself and curse my fate, And I look at myself, cursing my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Wishing I were like one who had more hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Wishing I looked like him; wishing I were surrounded by friends,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, Wishing I had this man's skill and that man's freedom.
With what I most enjoy contented least; I am least contented with what I used to enjoy most.
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, But, with these thoughts almost despising myself,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state, I, by chance, think of you and then my melancholy
Like to the lark at break of day arising Like the lark at the break of day, rises
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; From the dark earth and (I) sing hymns to heaven;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings For thinking of your love brings such happiness
That then I scorn to change my state with kings. That then I would not change my position in life with kings.


Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie, is an epic poem by the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, written in English and
published in 1847. The poem follows an Acadian girl named Evangeline and her search for her lost love Gabriel, set during
the time of the Expulsion of the Acadians.
The idea for the poem came from Longfellow's friend, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Longfellow used dactylic hexameter, imitating
Greek and Latin classics, though the choice was criticized. It became Longfellow's most famous work in his lifetime and
remains one of his most popular and enduring works.
The poem had a powerful effect in defining both Acadian history and identity in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
More recent scholarship has revealed the historical errors in the poem and the complexity of the Expulsion and those
involved, which the poem ignores.
Evangeline describes the betrothal of a fictional Acadian girl named Evangeline Bellefontaine to her beloved, Gabriel
Lajeunesse, and their separation as the British deport the Acadians from Acadie in the Great Upheaval. The poem then
follows Evangeline across the landscapes of America as she spends years in a search for him, at some times being near
to Gabriel without realizing he was near. Finally she settles in Philadelphia and, as an old woman, works as a Sister of
Mercy among the poor. While tending the dying during an epidemic she finds Gabriel among the sick, and he dies in her
arms.