by John Gray

Created on: March 03, 2007   Last Updated: October 01, 2011

As an ardent devotee of literature and a long time literature student, selecting just a few great lines in poetry is going to be hard. Great poetry has the power to move and to change perception, to inspire and capture the essence of life in a rhyming couplet.

Great poets like Shakespeare, Dante, and Milton have changed the way people view the world we live in. Often the rich and evocative language has seeped into the consciousness of the populace without most people even realising it. Unbeknown to themselves, everyday people use words and quote phrases Shakespeare invented over four hundred years ago.

Appreciating great poetry itself though is something which is quite personal. A poem which has the power to greatly move an individual may have little or no affect on the next person. However what I would like to do in this article is to share five personal favourite poems. In no particular order, and choosing only one selection from each poet, here they are:

From "Macbeth" by William Shakespeare.

Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

It's very difficult to choose just one from Shakespeare, but Macbeth has always been one of my favourite Shakespeare plays. The sheer dread in which Macbeth utters in these lines has stayed with me since I first became aware of them. The utter bleakness in these lines and the almost sarcastic energy in "struts and frets" evoke a deep bitterness about the very nature of life itself.

From "La Belle Dame San Merci" by John Keats.

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

This, and "To Autumn" by John Keats are my favourite Keats' poems. The extract above is the close of the poem represents a longing, a hopeless wait for a lost love. The quietness and finality depicted in the close of this poem is utterly moving.

From "Tintern Abbey" by William Wordsworth.

and this prayer I make,

Knowing that Nature never did betray

The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,

Through all the years of this our life, to lead

From joy to joy: for she can so inform

The mind that is within us, so impress

With quietness and beauty, and so feed

With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,

Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,

Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all

The dreary intercourse

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