So recently I bought the University of Cambridge book “Songs Of Ourselves” online for my AS Level literature exam but I never really got around to reading it because my tutor and I thought it would be better for me to study the William Wordsworth poetry book instead. And I didn’t have a problem with it, the book looked boring to say the least so I never even thought of giving it a chance. Today, for some reason I decided to give it a read. And it’s the best thing I’ve decided to do, because in it I found my new favorite poem!
Henry Baker’s poem caught my eye. Its simple title “Love” had me curious to read it because I’m always interested in how each and every poet interprets this feeling and describes it in a different way. Its honesty and beauty had my heart in a knot from the very first verse and it only got better with every word. I’m ashamed to say I was not familiar with Henry Baker’s poetry before reading this poem but now he’s definitely on my list of favorite poets.
Now, for the beautiful piece of poetry. Again, this is Henry Baker’s work and not mine. And the verses in italics are my favorites. Let me know what you beautiful people think!
Love, by Henry Baker
Love’s an headstrong wild desire
To possess what we admire:
Hurrying on without reflecting,
All that’s just or wise neglecting.
Pain, or pleasure, it is neither,
But excess of both together;
Now, addressing, cringing, whining,
Vowing, fretting, weeping, pining,
Murmuring, languishing, and sighing,
Mad, despairing, raving, dying:
Now, caressing, laughing, toying,
Fondling, kissing, and enjoying.
Always in extremes abiding,
Without measure, fond, or chiding:
Either furious with possessing,
Or despairing of the blessing:
Now transported, now tormented;
Still uneasy; ne’er contented.
None can tell its rise, or progress,
Or its ingress, or its egress,
Whether by a look produced,
Or by sympathy infused.
Fancy does so well maintain it,
Weaker reason can’t restrain it,
But is forced to fly before it,
Or else worship and adore it.
I hope you all enjoyed it!