A Yearning For The Hearth

I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoy’d
Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea. I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known,– cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honor’d of them all,–
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.

-From Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson

I love this poem, it’s not right to pull a few stanzas, but this is one of my favorite passages. Ulysses has returned from his travels and is made restless by the banality of his civil duties, he yearns for more. May we all ‘drink life to the lees!’

Imagine there’s no Heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

“Imagine” - John Lennon 

There’s no doubt that this is one of the most beautiful songs you’ll ever hear, yet whenever I hear it I can’t help thinking about how hollow the world Lennon imagines would be. I’m not sure a world without countries, religion, heaven or hell would mean people would be living life in peace - I’m not sure having less to live for means you’re less likely to kill. I wonder too if those things (and those people) worth dying for aren’t the same things that give meaning and purpose to our lives.  

When old age shall this generation waste,

Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” - that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

John Keats – Ode on a Grecian Urn

The Urn’s message to our generation, as well as to Keats’ is that: “Beauty is truth, truth beauty.” Profound metaphysics? Utter banality? Something in between, I think. Beauty is not what we now imagine it to be – completely subjective, meaningless. It is real, and art without it is not art. Keats and his peers saw art, science, theology and the other rational pursuits of man as unlocking the truth of the universe and the nature of the divine in doing so. The more beautiful the art - the better the art – the closer it was to the divine, closer to truth.

 
Keats goes too far (I suspect even he knew that), but beauty is not unrelated to truth. And when we can’t tell good art from bad, or if we disregard the notion art being good or bad, something is wrong - something is missing.

Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me and bend

Your force to break, blow, burn and make me new.

-John Donne, from Holy Sonnet 14

I first encountered Donne in my second year at the University of Saskatchewan. He’s not an easy author by any means, but the magnitude of his genius makes itself quickly apparent. Interesting to me is how his work displays vividly the duality of his life. His poetry records his revelry in his vices, and then, as in this case, earnest repentance and seeking God. All of it beautifully crafted.