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We all heard of good opening lines for books, but how about poems?>And indeed He seems to me >Scarce other than my king's ideal knightFrom Idylls of the King by Tennyson
>>21289142>helluva hard tay read theez initGood Style by Tom Leonard
>>21289142>Let us go then, you and I,>When the evening is spread out against the sky>Like a patient etherized upon a table;-Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock>I weep for Adonais—he is dead!-Shelley, Adonais>My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains>My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,>Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains>One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:-Keats, Ode to a Nightingale>My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun.-Shakespeare, Sonnet 130.>In Xanadu did Kubla Khan>A stately pleasure-dome decree:-Coleridge, Kubla Khan
>>21289142>’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves>Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:>All mimsy were the borogoves,>And the mome raths outgrabe.
>>21289142>Weia! Waga! Woge, du Welle, walle zur Wiege! Wagalaweia! Wallala weiala weia!>In his open letter to Friedrich Nietzsche of 12 June 1872 Wagner explained that Woglinde’s opening gambit is based on OHG heilawâc ( = water drawn from a river or well at some divinely appointed hour), recast by analogy with the eia popeia ( = hushabye) of children’s nursery rhymes.>In conversation with Cosima, Wagner described this passage as ‘the world’s lullaby’ (CT, 17 July 1869), a reading already suggested by Opera and Drama, where the composer imputes the birth of language to a melodic vocalization.
>>21289142>Boom, boom, boom, boomThe German Guns by Pvt S Baldrick c1917
>>21289142>Favorite opening line in a poemDo you really mean this — i.e. one line only? Or do you just mean favourite opening?If the former, we need a line which stands alone grammatically. Plus it has to hit hard right out of the gate. But there still plenty of bangers:Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?— ShakespeareJust for a handful of silver he left us— R. BrowningThe Asyrian came down like a wolf on the fold— ByronI work all day, and get half-drunk at night.— LarkinHow shall I love thee? Let me count the ways— E. BrowningEarth has not anything to show more fair— WordsworthLove set you going like a fat gold watch.— PlathSeason of mists and mellow fruitfulness— KeatsI must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky— MasefieldWhat is the world, O Soldiers?— de la MareAnd death shall have no dominion.— ThomasIf we're allowed to go on to the second line, there's lots more to choose from, of course:We are the pilgrims, master: we shall goAlways a little further— FleckerIt is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three.— ColeridgeI know that I shall meet my fateSomewhere among the clouds I love— YeatsAbout suffering they were never wrong,The Old Masters— AudenNow is the globe shrunk tightRound the mouse’s dulled wintering heart.— HughesAs imperceptibly as griefThe summer lapsed away— Dickinson