The Anonymous Ancient Poets Often Said it Better and More Memorably

Haunted by these lines tonight, their rawness and honesty. A straight shot of the unvarnished longing in everyone’s heart.  No dodges, frills, or confounding metaphors. Said to date from 16th century, but it feels earlier, more primal than than that date.  Definitely not of the English Renaissance, goes way back before that, think lonely campfires, homesickness, elemental fear and doubt. No tortured figures of speech, no posturing. Read it a couple of times, let it sink in.


O WESTERN wind, when wilt thou blow

  That the small rain down can rain?
Christ, that my love were in my arms
  And I in my bed again!
 “A Lover Plaineth for the Spring”

from The Oxford Book of English Verse

Long week here, but these straight unadorned lines ring so true, are an aid to sleep.

Happy weekend, friends 😉


About Margaret Jean Langstaff

A lifelong critical reader with literary tastes, a novelist, short story writer, essayist, book critic, and professional book editor for many years. A consultant to publishers and authors, providing manuscript critiques and a full range of editorial services. A friend and supporter of all other readers and writers. A collector of signed modern first editions. Animal lover and tree hugger. Follow me on Twitter @LangstaffEditor
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