Favourite poetry Lines

When John Donne's wife Ann left him, he wrote

John Donne
Ann Donne
Undone

It touched me on a personal level.

... get off my ****ing daffodils!

Gets me every time.

A couple of times I've heard Americans refer to this as 'The Song of *the* Wandering Aengus', presumably because they never met anyone called Aengus and they don't know it's a name:

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

An honest man here lies at rest,
As e’er God with his image blest;
the friend of man, the friend of truth,
The friend of age, and guide of youth:
Few hearts like his, with virtue warm’d,
Few heads with knowledge so informed;
If there is another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this

Knokcanure both mane(mean) and poor,a church without a steeple, bitches and whures, looking over half doors, criticizing decent People.,,,,,,,has my smallie reciting it for a laugh 30 plus years ago,,didn't he do the same in front of bishop Daly(Derry) in a pre communion talk at school,,,big red face for daddy

“I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.” ~ Pablo Neruda

"I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams".

William Butler Yeats.

"O pointy birds, o pointy pointy,
Anoint my head, anointy-nointy."

John Lillison (The first man to ever be killed in a car crash)

"He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong".

(Stop all the clock, cut off the telephone - W.H Auden)

The Planter’s Daughter
Austin Clarke

When night stirred at sea
And the fire brought a crowd in,
They say that her beauty
Was music in mouth
And few in the candlelight
Thought her too proud,
For the house of the planter
Is known by the trees.

Men that had seen her
Drank deep and were silent,
The women were speaking
Wherever she went –
As a bell that is rung
Or a wonder told shyly,
And O she was the Sunday
In every week.

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference".

The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost