The Thunder-Spirit Night time--the orange Clouds withhold oncoming rain; Afar the thunder Lingers to oblivion: Restless are the ways That fulfill unspoken dreams Their lives amongst us, As time that summons passing As a startled bird To wake us in the moonlight Of a winter sleep. Douglas Thornton
Lyric poetry lives in its present means by he who composes it. From it the cloud extends which overtops the mountain, soon to leave it snow-clad and brilliant in the morning light. In it, the human condition is apt and sentiments that have been felt by the first of humans, the same as those that will be felt by the last, are with skill waved off in concise sentences. None can be long-winded in the lyric and succeed.
A lyric, then, is a poem of no great length which embodies a mood wherein the poet has felt intensely his idea and the words which represent it. Some of the most recognized examples of lyric poetry in the English language are Shakespeare's sonnets, but some interesting examples may also include Sir Philip Sydney, who laid the ground-work for Shakespeare's sonnets; William Collins with his Ode to Evening; John Keats with his famous cycle of odes; or the following example from Emily Dickinson:
The Grass
The grass so little has to do--
A sphere of simple green,
With only butterflies to brood,
And bees to entertain,
And stir all day to pretty tunes
The breezes fetch along,
And hold the sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything;
And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
And make itself so fine--
A duchess were to common
For such a noticing.
And even when it dies, to pass
In odors so divine,
As lowly spices gone to sleep,
Or amulets of pine.
And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
And dream the days away--
The grass has so little to do,
I wish I were the hay!
Of course, we all have our favorites, and whoever looks will be sure to find one! Often, the lyric and poet have done their job if at the end one feels empty and lonely, but with the profound aura that something has happened. Lyrics give us this melancholy feeling because our existence is of a deep and dark understanding with the world, morally and intellectually abstract and uncared for. The lyric lets us see our past, our present, and even at times our future, not by making us unhappy, but inspiring in us the origins of humanity and thoughts of unperceived wisdom. Thus, he who believes that he cannot understand the lyric--or poetry in general--is correct: he is not meant to understand! He is only meant to feel and everyone is capable of that. Appreciation lies in curiosity and curiosity will push him to understand if it is strong enough--but let him first probe and understand himself.
Douglas Thornton
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