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[hobbitomm]

Well, just to continue, on a slightly oblique tangent to the songs one, here's some lines of poetry, please name poet and poem. Only one poem per poet (where the poet is known!).

1)Bullock starteth, bucke farteth
2)These pretty pleasures might me move
3)This loam, this roughcast and this stone doth show
4)Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
5)Two hundred to adore each breast;
6)A being darkly wise, and rudely great;
7)Among these dark Satanic Mills?
8)We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
9)A savage place! as holy and enchanted
10)And Belgium's Capital had gathered then
11)The sods, with our bayonets turning,
12)The lone and level sands stretch far away.
13)A jug of wine, A loaf of bread- and Thou
14) That clothe the wold, and meet the sky;
15) Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
16) He took his vorpal blade in hand:
17)Home is the sailor, home from sea,
18)And blood and wine were on his hands
19)I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach
20)The Brides of Death that wait the groom

Rules- No googling, but books are fine ;)

Comments

Still left...

[hobbitomm.livejournal.com]

2)These pretty pleasures might me move
3)This loam, this roughcast and this stone doth show
5)Two hundred to adore each breast;
6)A being darkly wise, and rudely great;
10)And Belgium's Capital had gathered then
11)The sods, with our bayonets turning,
14) That clothe the wold, and meet the sky;
15) Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
18)And blood and wine were on his hands


You do realise that this means you lot are better at poetry than my taste in music? ;)

Clues

[hobbitomm.livejournal.com]

As a clue, have the other halves of the couplets (or more, sometimes!)


2)These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love

3)This loam, this roughcast, and this stone doth show,
That I am this same Wall. The Truth is so.

5)Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;

6)Placed on this isthmus of a middle state
A being darkly wise and rudely great:

10)And Belgium's capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.

11)We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light
And the lanthorn dimly burning.

14)That clothe the wold, and meet the sky;
And through the fields, the road runs by

15)Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!


And Copperbird _really_ should get 18 ;)
18)For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,