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NEELLIANGO93461: World is suddener than we fancy it.,Louis MacNeice, Collected Poems of Louis MacNeice,ireland, poetry,

dedalusdenaries: Time was away and somewhere else Louis MacNeice

adair_mark: ‘If we could get the hang of it entirely It would take too long; All we know is the splash of words in passing And the falling twigs of song…’ Louis MacNeice - from Entirely

BongersFM: Jacob played: No Go (For Louis Macneice) - The Cleaners From Venus for the 5th time.

Tiny_Camels: Three years ago today, when I got home from my last on-campus workday before the Covid-19 pandemic lockdown began, I lay on the sofa and tweeted these lines, a pastiche of Louis MacNeice's brilliant Autumn Journal, written in the months before the outbreak of World War II.

AnneMarie_Fyfe: Rockport Lodge where Louis MacNeice wrote the poem, 'Cushendun', in 1939: 'Limestone and basalt and a whitewashed house / ... / With the curtains drawn against the winds and waves / There is a little box with a well-bred voice; / What a place to talk of War.'

GordonPeake: ‘If we could get the hang of it entirely/ It would take too long….in brute reality there is no road that is right entirely’ Louis MacNeice ‘Entirely’

RayBoomhower: "Why do we like being Irish? Partly because It gives us a hold on the sentimental English As members of a world that never was, Baptized with fairy water." Louis MacNeice Erin go Bragh

FergusShanahan1: Human microbiome variance is underestimated (

PoemsOnTheTube: Poem of the Day: What is Truth by Louis MacNeice

poemtoday: Night Club After the legshows and the brandies And all the pick-me-ups for tired Men there is a feeling Something more is required. The lights go down and eyes Look up across the room; Salome comes in, bearing The head of God knows whom. Louis MacNeice

poemtoday: Two poems by Louis MacNeice ...

TimDee4: A posting on ‘other less difficult media’ ~ Louis MacNeice.

JamesBrookeSmi1: Louis MacNeice on the "crisis in the humanities" circa 1938

Pad_Ban: DUBLIN. Louis MacNeice. This was never my town I was not born or bred Nor schooled here & she will not Have me alive or dead But yet she holds my mind With her seedy elegance With her gentle veils of rain & all her ghosts that walk... A Dublin now lost? We must win her back.

ConnorH2192: Superb, yet as writers lacked a sense of touch Louis MacNeice

CecileVarry: ‘Having bitten on life like a sharp apple’ A little Aubade by Louis MacNeice:

Pad_Ban: And Nelson on his Pillar Watching his world collapse. "Dublin". A poem by Louis MacNeice. Replaced by the Spire. A headstone on a once beautiful Capitols Street. A meaningless useless bland metal needle. I suppose in a way it sums up PCorrupt secular EUnuch globalist Ireland.

PatsyBlackstaff: Walking through town and surprised by Louis MacNeice's wonderful 'Meeting Point'.

coy_harlingen: There's COSMIC horror & COSMIC poetry Louis MacNeice

LiveWellPoems: New Episode: PTLWB 49: "Entirely", by Louis MacNeice. Apple ->

LiveWellPoems: Today's episode. Spotify ->

Thesecretbooks1: One from Carrick's finest: Louis MacNeice, a lovely love poem

MacneiceLouis: But what is that clinking in the darkness? Maybe we shall know each other better  When the tunnels meet beneath the mountain. Louis MacNeice

jessicaoutram: Catherine reads one of her all-time favourite poems “Snow” by Louis MacNeice. Catherine and Jessica explore the poem’s abundance, beauty, complexity and mystery. We see how snippets of family stories come together to make a poem.

james_brabazon: For the next ocean is the first ocean And the last ocean is the first ocean And, however often the sun may rise, A new thing dawns upon our eyes. (From “Apple Blossom” by Louis MacNeice)

coy_harlingen: Louis MacNeice is a favorite poet. For lines like these: WOLVES .... The tide comes in and goes out again, I do not want To be always stressing either its flux or its permanence, I do not want to be a tragic or philosophic chorus But to keep my eye only on the nearer future

curry_matthew: The point of these ramblings? Well perhaps to indicate how broad and interwoven creative influence can be. Perhaps also as a pointer to keep in mind that, as Louis MacNeice wrote, 'World is crazier and more of it than we think, / Incorrigibly plural' ..

ConnorH2192: I dread the darkness— A mound on me. Louis MacNeice

dasam: Snow by Louis Macneice

dasam: Snow by Louis Macneice

ftweekend: When Sophy Roberts read Letters from Iceland, 'a strange and subversive book mixing poetry, pastiche, reportage and packing lists, about a trip the poet WH Auden made to Iceland with his friend Louis MacNeice in 1936', she decided to retrace his steps…

ftweekend: When Sophy Roberts read Letters from Iceland, 'a strange and subversive book mixing poetry, pastiche, reportage and packing lists, about a trip the poet WH Auden made to Iceland with his friend Louis MacNeice in 1936', she decided to retrace his steps…

alexconnorwrite: 'When the winsome bubble Shivers, when the bough Breaks, will be the moment But not here or now. Sleep and, asleep, forget The watchers on the wall Awake all night who know The pity of it all.” Louis MacNeice

MIRR_math: Prayer before Birth. Louis Macneice

ClemencyWells: Louis MacNeice when someone at the BBC asked what he’d been doing for the past decade, given no actual output: ‘Thinking’.

seventydys: fingers killing time Louis MacNeice, ‘The heated minutes’

vkjha62: Across Iceland, in the footsteps of WH Auden With 1930s Europe in turmoil, Auden and his friend Louis MacNeice found escape in a journey to the strange, spectacular Westfjords

abolisao: Louis MacNeice

oblumine: “Or give me a new Muse with stockings and suspenders And a smile like a cat With false eyelashes and finger-nails of carmine And dressed by Schiaparelli, with a pill-box hat.” Louis MacNeice, Autumn Journal, stanza XV, 1939.

SusanBoylesCat: SNOW (Louis MacNeice) The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it.

dylanthomasnews: Homage to Dylan Thomas was staged at the Globe Theatre, London, on this day in 1954. The performers included Dame Edith Evans, Richard Burton, Louis Macneice, Emlyn Williams & Hugh Griffiths A vinyl LP recording of the event was released by Argo

PoemadayEK: Louis Macneice - The British Museum Reading Room. 'The stooping haunted readers /(...) tap the cells of knowledge, / honey and wax, the accumulation of years'.

PoemadayEK: Snow - Louis Macneice - incorrigibly plural

peterlevine: Louis MacNeice on other people

ConnorH2192: Mass destruction, mass disease: We thank thee, Lord, upon our knees That we were born in times like these Louis MacNeice

thaliarchus: I have never sat and read Louis MacNeice’s /Autumn Journal/ right through. And that’s fine! Dipping in has its own rewards. Here’s a passage on school & the limits of schooling.

PoemsOnTheTube: Poem of the Day: Snow by Louis MacNeice

McDonaghDJ: I've just realised that Dylan Thomas and Andy Irvine both drank in bars with Louis MacNeice, but obviously several years apart.

kingofpain666: “And each port has a name for the sea, the citiless, the corroding, the sorrow.” W.H. Auden & Louis MacNeice, Letters from Iceland

ShewinFan: Louis MacNeice and Cecil Day Lewis; Stephen Spender and W.H. Auden.

Nest33445439: 'World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various'. (Louis MacNeice, 'Snow')

AnnaEsse: "The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall for ever, but if you break the bloody glass you won't hold up the weather." Louis MacNeice

samuel_twain: Louis MacNeice

smallermachines: From Bagpipe Music by Louis MacNeice

kirstiemccrum: World is crazier and more of it than we think - Louis MacNeice

kingofpain666: My favourite poem seems quite poignant for 2023. Run out the boat, my broken comrades, they haven’t beaten us yet. By Louis MacNeice (1907-1963).

JCBretan: Louis MacNeice: “A lighthouse tower is the best modern approximation to the towers in fairy stories where princesses are imprisoned”

jes1003: Nor can we hide our heads in the sands, the sands have Filtered away; Nothing remains but rock at this hour, this zero Hour of the day. from Louis MacNeice, 'Autumn Journal'.

lizziespeller: “Sleep, my brain, and sleep, my senses, Sleep, my hunger and my spite. Sleep, recruits to the evil army, Who, for so long misunderstood, Took to the gun to kill your sorrow; Sleep and be damned and wake up good.” from Louis MacNeice, Autumn Journal pt 24

ealingtradesco1: “I must go out tomorrow as the others do / And build the falling castle; / Which has never fallen, thanks / Not to any formula, red tape or institution, / Not to any creeds or banks / But to the human animals endless courage.” - Louis MacNeice, Autumn Journal

TheFridayPoem: The Frip has chosen six of the best and most Christmassy poems for your delight and delectation – poems by Louis MacNeice, e.e. cummings, Benjamin Zephaniah, James Arthur, Allison Joseph and Jane Kenyon.

dubcilib: An exquisite poem: Snow by Louis MacNeice. "World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural." 

adair_mark: ‘Wishes and memories wrapped in tissue paper, Trinkets, gadgets and lollipops… And the feeling that Christmas Day Was a coral island in time where we land and eat our lotus But where we can never stay.’ Louis MacNeice - from Autumn Journal

thaliarchus: One of Louis MacNeice’s poems about the aftermath of the Second World War. Thinking about this, and the long lingering withdrawal of the pandemic.

JShalmaneser: "Glory veneered and varnished As if veneer could hold The rotten guts and crumbled bones together." Louis MacNeice

LauraMcKee_fyeh: Join hands and make believe that joined Hands will keep away the wolves of water ⁃Louis MacNeice, Wolves Hugging my body to me … As if hands were enough To hold an avalanche off. ⁃Thom Gunn, The man with the night sweats

DrCarolPercy: "Self-assertion more often than not is vulgar, but a live and vulgar dog who keeps on barking is better than a dead lion, however dignified." — Louis MacNeice (Selected Prose)

PoetryBrum: Next, Ross Wilson – whose second collection, Vital Signs, is forthcoming from Red Squirrel Press – considers the influence of Birmingham on Louis MacNeice:

EliasSiqueiros: Suspended in a moving night The face in the reflected train Looks at first as self-assured As your own face- But look again: Windows between you and the world Keep out the cold keep out the fright; Then why does your reflection seem So lonely in the moving night? Louis Macneice

louiseashcroft: "The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was spawning snow and pink roses against it." Dad's garden magically recreating my favourite Louis MacNeice poem - Snow. Read it here

ClemencyWells: ‘(a mysterious process)’ Louis MacNeice being mega as per on poetry

poemtoday: My favourite Louis MacNeice poem.

PWB_writer1: Three fine poems here, the first a nod to a personal beacon, Louis MacNeice. The third ends with these powerful lines: And it’s right, it’s right, it’s right. I’m not saying it’s not right. But like everything right, it is unbearable. Such wisdom seldom comes so finely packaged

richard_king: Twitter, via Anthony & Cleopatra and Louis MacNeice, might be dying, Egypt, dying, but it still feels good to suggest that this conversation between Adam Shatz and Thomas Edsall is an excellent and informative listen.

adair_mark: ‘Why not admit that other people are always Organic to the self, that a monologue Is the death of language… The eye demands the light at risk of blindness And the mind that did not doubt would not be mind And discontent is eternal…’ Louis MacNeice - from Autumn Journal

maryanneharring: Just had the very great pleasure of hearing a certain Maggie O’Farrell reading ‘Snow’ by Louis MacNeice on the radio, and world is indeed suddener than we fancy it.

EmmaMillsLondon: Today at our class today we talked about Snow by Louis MacNeice. I just couldn’t resist. It’s one of my all time favourites and the weather is right for it at the moment. I was going to write a word of two about it for our recap

j0ne_s_: louis macneice looking at the weather and rubbing his hands together with relish while dollar signs spin into place on his pupils

marlinhoister: “And grateful too for sunlight on the garden.” Louis Macneice

fannin_shauna: Snow By Louis MacNeice The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it.

seventydys: The drunkenness of things being various Louis MacNeice, ´Snow’

Nest33445439: Louis MacNeice, 'Sunlight on the Garden'.

LewisSymposium: Keep going back to Louis MacNeice’s Selected Poems for the satisfying way he draws out the ordinarily indescribable essences of everyday experiences. This is his ‘Conversation’

BongersFM: Jacob played: No Go (For Louis Macneice) - The Cleaners From Venus for the 4th time.

judystout1: “Plurality” by Louis MacNeice - The American Scholar

TheAmScho: Listen to Amanda Holmes read “Plurality,” Louis MacNeice’s philosophical poem exploring the tension between different conceptions of reality:

arbrealettresCH: Icebergs (Louis MacNeice)

LewisSymposium: Here’s another from Louis MacNeice’s Selected Poems: ‘The Ear’. Have enjoyed reading it alongside (and in the light of) his poem ‘Stylite’, which concerns an ascetical saint (like Simeon) and is found just a few pages earlier.

alexconnorwrite: "And not expecting pardon, Hardened in heart anew, But glad to have sat under Thunder and rain with you, And grateful too For sunlight on the garden.” Louis MacNeice, Collected Poems 1925-1948

aoifesh: I am so at home in Dublin, more than any other city, that I feel it has always been familiar to me. It took me years to see through its soft charm to its bitter prickly kernel - which I quite like too. [Louis MacNeice]

emilyecullen: have always loved this poem from the great Louis MacNeice. So arresting and how he balances the abstract with concrete imagery so well with his characteristic flair for rhyme and rhythm

LewisSymposium: This fascinating little gem by Louis MacNeice from his Selected Poems; in its own way, it is reminiscent of lines in T.S. Eliot’s ‘Burnt Norton’, and that poem’s search for the ‘still point of the turning world’.

LewisSymposium: Here’s another from Louis MacNeice’s Selected Poems (printed on the same page as ‘Wolves’, the previous poem spoken about). This poem, ‘Snow’, is perhaps in conversation with Eliot’s ‘Midwinter spring’ in ‘Little Gidding’.

AngrySamPoet: “It was from the public schools that our governments caught the trick of infallibility. This is why public schools will die like the dinosaurs - from overspecialisation and a mortal invulnerability” Louis MacNeice, 1941

ShakespeareJD: "Our end is life. Put out to sea." (Louis Macneice)

michaelscaines: I don’t know how long we shall stay in B’ham. I put it at 2–3 years (preferably 2). But where in Hell to go? That is the problem. Oxford (& C. too) would be disastrous. A nausea submerges me at the thought of ALL those clever people with their pipes. – Louis MacNeice, Nov 17 1934

Louis_MacNeice: And when we clear away All this debris of day-to-day experience, What comes out to light, what is there of value Lasting from day to day? I sit in my room in comfort Looking at enormous flowers - Equipment purchased with my working hours, A daily mint of perishable petals.

Louis_MacNeice: And we cannot take it in and we go to our daily Jobs to the dull refrain of the caption ‘War’ Buzzing around us as from hidden insects And we think ‘This must be wrong, this has happened before, Just like this before, we must be dreaming… - from ‘Autumn Journal’, 1939

alexconnorwrite: 'When I went to bed as a child, I was told, 'You don't know where you'll wake up.' When I ran in the garden, I was told that running was bad for the heart. Everything had its sinister aspect - milk shrinks the stomach, lemon thins the blood.' Louis MacNeice Irish/English poet



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Psalm 119 Part 10
 by Isaac Watts

Pleading the promises.

ver. 38,49

Behold thy waiting servant, Lord,
Devoted to thy fear;
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For all my hopes are there.
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