The Hot 100

[lady of shallot]

That was some weighty gold fish bowl!


"The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched in vain to reach the prize."


Doesn't the "She" here read as if it should be the "hapless nymph" but clearly it is the cat.

Clever poem but doesn't really evoke any real feeling in response as once again doesn't seem gold fish are usually in such weighty bowls.

[Penelope]

LofS wrote:

Clever poem but doesn't really evoke any real feeling in response as once again doesn't seem gold fish are usually in such weighty bowls.

I was thinking about this, because I'm interested in Domestic History and this poem was written in the 18th century and glass wasn't in such common usage. Then I found this advert for Christies Auction House, and I think this must be the type of bowl referred to in the poem. What do you think LofS?

I know this is completely irrelevant and off topic....but I have enjoyed searching.


http://www.christies.com/LotFinder/lot_ ... ID=4227600

[lady of shallot]

As a collector of china I find that bowl incredibly beautiful but still at only 22.5 inches in diameter would that hold the weight of a full grown cat?

I too am very interested in domestic history and actually everything to do with how people coped with the most basic and common of human needs throughout history. For instance I keep wondering what kind of diapers (nappies) did Sachagawea wear on Jean Baptiste (the infant that accompanied her, and Lewis and Clark oh, and also the baby's father!)

this unforgivably OT

[DWill]

82. "Ask Me No More Where Jove Bestows," by Thomas Carew. Wow! Now that is going to do the trick for the guy, I would certainly think. But I'll defer to the experts.....4 dings from me, though.


ASK me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose ;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.

Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day ;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.

Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale, when May is past ;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.

Ask me no more where those stars 'light,
That downwards fall in dead of night ;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become, as in their sphere.

Ask me no more if east or west
The phoenix builds her spicy nest ;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.

[oblivion]

The last stanza says it all, doesn't it? I love the "spicy nest"! 3 dings from me.

[Robert Tulip]

82. "Ask Me No More Where Jove Bestows," by Thomas Carew.

How did this dog of a doggerel make such a high spot on the list?

[Penelope]

I dunno, it seems like silly poem to me, being all about appearance.

I much prefer Omar Kayyam's

A loaf of bread, a book of verse and thou
Beside me, singing in the wilderness.

I like love poetry to be about more than a maiden's beauty - but about the joy in her presence and such. I'm sorry I can't summon up a ding.

[Saffron]

The last stanza says it all, doesn't it? I love the "spicy nest"! 3 dings from me.

The "spicey nest" caught my attention too. I want to give it more than 2 dings, I just can't.

[lady of shallot]

I was going to say it reminds me of a poem by husband wrote about me once, but after reading Robert's doggerel comments, I won't

Penelope:

I like love poetry to be about more than a maiden's beauty - but about the joy in her presence and such. I'm sorry I can't summon up a ding.

I don't read this poem about being about the woman's beauty. She is his everything, that's what he's saying. Pretty nice thing to be said about someone, don't you think?

I would be very proud to be all of those things to my beloved.

[Saffron]

I dunno, it seems like silly poem to me, being all about appearance.

I much prefer Omar Kayyam's

A loaf of bread, a book of verse and thou
Beside me, singing in the wilderness.

I like love poetry to be about more than a maiden's beauty - but about the joy in her presence and such. I'm sorry I can't summon up a ding.

Nice lines, I love the "singing in the wilderness." I was looking for a few lines to post, as you did, to present my idea of a better, no, more spine tingling (and therefore a better appeal to the lady, if you will) poem.

One of my favorite love poems is Ben Jonson, Still to Be Neat. The contrast between the first and second stanzas sets up the important idea of the poem -- the real self is the one loved, not the illusion of beauty, not the beauty created, but the loveliness that comes from loving. Traditionally the eyes are the place from which we look out into the world; the window to our soul. With the line "Give me a look, give me a face," Jonson is saying look at me, let me see into you and also, engage with me (a few rosebuds to be gathered, aye). Becasue it is juxtaposed agains the first stanza "Give me a face" seems to say be active, alive; not posed.

Here is the whole poem --

Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast ;
Still to be powder'd, still perfum'd :
Lady, it is to be presum'd,
Though Art's hid causes are not found,
All is not sweet, all is not sound.

Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace ;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free :
Such sweet neglect more taketh me,
Than all the adulteries of Art ;
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.