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10 of My Favourite Lines from Poetry

By March 21, 2017March 20th, 2019Poetry

Poetry is so subjective and that’s because it speaks to the heart, and each of us will have our favourite poems and verses that seem to speak to us personally and that’s what makes poetry so magical.

Today I thought I’d share mine, the verses I believe are the most beautiful lines from poetry but I’d love to hear yours too. Let us know what your favourite lines from poetry are in the comments.

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

Rudyard Kipling ~ If

 

“But we were a maybe
and never a must
when it should have been us.”

Lang Leav ~ Almost

 

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley ~ Invictus

 

“Words, words were truly alive on the tongue, in the head
Warm, beating, frantic, winged; music and blood
But then I was young.”

Carol Ann Duffy ~ Little Red Cap

 

“He was my North, my South , my East and my West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.”

W.H Auden ~ Funeral Blues

 



“`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrab”

Lewis Carroll ~ The Jaberwocky

 

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,”

Emily Dickinson ~ Hope is a thing with Feathers

 

There is a crack, a crack, in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen ~ Anthem

 

“And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.”

Oscar Wilde – To My Wife

 

Alas, alas! the nearing time
And the sad, sad day to me,
When ‘neath the daisies out of sight
These hands will folded be.

Ellen M. Huntington Gates ~ My Mother’s Hands

 

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