myq asked in Arts & HumanitiesPoetry · 1 decade ago

Can someone here give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism on my poem?

Hey guys, it's my first time really sharing my poetry with anybody, and I'm not too confident about's really something I do mostly for myself. But I was wondering if anyone here can give me some advice, pls don't be too harsh or anything

And thou art dead, as young and fair

As aught of mortal birth;

And form so soft, and charms so rare,

Too soon return'd to Earth!

Though Earth receiv'd them in her bed,

And o'er the spot the crowd may tread

In carelessness or mirth,

There is an eye which could not brook

A moment on that grave to look.

I will not ask where thou liest low,

Nor gaze upon the spot;

There flowers or weeds at will may grow,

So I behold them not:

It is enough for me to prove

That what I lov'd, and long must love,

Like common earth can rot;

To me there needs no stone to tell,

'T is Nothing that I lov'd so well.

Yet did I love thee to the last

As fervently as thou,

Who didst not change through all the past,

And canst not alter now.

The love where Death has set his seal,

Nor age can chill, nor rival steal,

Nor falsehood disavow:

And, what were worse, thou canst not see

Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

The better days of life were ours;

The worst can be but mine:

The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers,

Shall never more be thine.

The silence of that dreamless sleep

I envy now too much to weep;

Nor need I to repine

That all those charms have pass'd away,

I might have watch'd through long decay.

The flower in ripen'd bloom unmatch'd

Must fall the earliest prey;

Though by no hand untimely snatch'd,

The leaves must drop away:

And yet it were a greater grief

To watch it withering, leaf by leaf,

Than see it pluck'd to-day;

Since earthly eye but ill can bear

To trace the change to foul from fair.

I know not if I could have borne

To see thy beauties fade;

The night that follow'd such a morn

Had worn a deeper shade:

Thy day without a cloud hath pass'd,

And thou wert lovely to the last,

Extinguish'd, not decay'd;

As stars that shoot along the sky

Shine brightest as they fall from high.

As once I wept, if I could weep,

My tears might well be shed,

To think I was not near to keep

One vigil o'er thy bed;

To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,

To fold thee in a faint embrace,

Uphold thy drooping head;

And show that love, however vain,

Nor thou nor I can feel again.

Yet how much less it were to gain,

Though thou hast left me free,

The loveliest things that still remain,

Than thus remember thee!

The all of thine that cannot die

Through dark and dread Eternity

Returns again to me,

And more thy buried love endears

Than aught except its living years.

8 Answers

  • 1 decade ago
    Favorite Answer

    Wow, I'm actually impressed. I was expecting to read a bit of "free verse" garbage like most people seem to think is poetry these days. This was very well-written, but you asked for criticism so:

    1) Too many "and"s that don't really mean anything at the beginning. Maybe I'd go with "Thy form so soft..." to reduce that.

    2) If I was really being harsh, I might urge you to shorten the poem. All of the stanzas are fairly well-written, but do you need them all to deliver your message? Stanza 4, for instance, is one that I think could go. Its first few lines strike me as a bit too glib--using parallelism without actually saying very much.

    Try to cut where you can, and see if the cuts make the poem better or worse.

    But I'm reaching. Really, it's quite good. I'd like to see more of your stuff.

    EDIT: Oh, it's Lord Byron, eh? haha, that's amusing. Well, I'll let my critiques stand. Good job I didn't criticize too much, what?

    Source(s): I've written a bit of poetry here and there.
  • Anonymous
    5 years ago

    It's a good theme but the metaphor of flame as love--- hard to make it fresh and alive. The metaphors pile up and get inconsistent and confused. "What is longing made from that it does not wear out with use?" That is the beginning of a poem about longing. Play with your theme. Ask it questions or ask questions about it. What is love made from? What is fire made from? Imagine how mysterious it seemed as a child. Look at it afresh. Make a small bonfire and really try to SEE and hear and experience it, the process. Observe the meanderings of your mind. This might lead to a new way of expressing your theme in a way others can't. Can a fire burn without consuming all? What can it leave behind?

  • 1 decade ago

    I think this is merely a trick question to see who's paying attention, because this poem was written well long before you were ever born by Lord Byron. It's an excellent poem though, I read a lot of his stuff in my Lit. in English 2 class.

    Source(s): and here's a link I found to read the poem elsewhere...
  • 1 decade ago

    Very, very good. But overly long I think, and too reminiscent of the Elizabethan era. I would substitute a lot of the words with more modern, easier to relate to ones. This is the 21st century, not the 16th: don't you agree?


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  • 1 decade ago

    It's a good start. I can tell you're new to this (no offense!). I think some of your metaphors are weak. You should use onomatopoeias more. They really add life to a poem. Try using bigger words, and more vivid imagery. Otherwise, it's great! Great anti-violent message too!

    Good luck! Keep writing!

    Source(s): I have pHd in English
  • Get your own poems. That belongs to someone else! Do Lay Lo Mo!

  • 1 decade ago

    wow that was wonderful. I've never heard someone nowadays write so well. you're really good. you don't even need to ask for someone to not be harsh. this is great if any one told you other wise they're wrong.

  • 1 decade ago

    Seems i've read this somewhere before?

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