I had a dream that I didn’t want the lion to eat the lamb and the lion came up and lapped my face like a big puppy dog and then I picked up the lamb and it kissed me. – Jack Kerouac
T.S. Eliot once wrote that ‘Byron added nothing to the language […] and developed nothing in the meaning, of individual words’. Even after putting my love for Lord Byron aside, I’m not sure that I agree. Lord Byron’s poetry is a poetry of suggestion and of withholding, of teasing and withdrawing. Particularly in his poems […]
Happy New Year! Here’s to a year of growth, success, love & good literature. All the best! ♡ This year I want to read more poetry so I’m kicking off 2019 with a post on William Wordsworth’s poem, ‘Three years she grew in sun and shower’. To speak of suffering in literature is hazardous; it […]
Lamb, No Lion 