[Stylist] a poem by Robert Burns
Ann Chiappetta
anniecms64 at gmail.com
Thu Dec 29 01:18:12 UTC 2022
Hi-
It’s great to read your thoughts, Happy New Year and be well,
Annie
Ann M. Chiappetta, M.S.
Making Meaningful ConnectionsThrough Media
914.393.6605 USA
<mailto:Anniecms64 at gmail.com> Anniecms64 at gmail.com
All things Annie: <http://www.annchiappetta.com> www.annchiappetta.com
From: Stylist <stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org> On Behalf Of Richard R. Thomas via Stylist
Sent: Wednesday, December 28, 2022 5:46 PM
To: Writers' Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Cc: Richard R. Thomas <richardrthomas48 at gmail.com>
Subject: Re: [Stylist] a poem by Robert Burns
Hi Ann:
I looked up the use of colons and semicolons since a laymans read they seemed excessive with all the commas.
But he uses them correctly as far as I could tell, they all fall into proper usage operations of grammer.
So I learned something today, thanks Ann:
His use of commas like most poets provide timing pauses enduring run-on sentences where periods could be used instead.
But I get it due to connectivity of thought as components of a complete painted thought and not stand-alone statements related to a noun or concept such as a pronoun might do.
Thanks again Ann and hope you had a nice holiday and a better new year coming up soon.
Richard R. Thomas (Rick USA)
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From: Ann Chiappetta via Stylist <mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Sunday, December 18, 2022 5:06 PM
To: Writers' Division Mailing List <mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>
Cc: Ann Chiappetta <mailto:anniecms64 at gmail.com>
Subject: [Stylist] a poem by Robert Burns
Winter: A Dirge
Robert Burns
The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or, the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.
“The sweeping blast, the sky o’ercast,”
The joyless winter-day
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:
The tempest’s howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine!
Thou Power Supreme whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil,
Here, firm, I rest; they must be best,
Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want—O do Thou grant
This one request of mine.—
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on December 18, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.
Ann M. Chiappetta, M.S.
Making Meaningful ConnectionsThrough Media
914.393.6605 USA
<mailto:Anniecms64 at gmail.com> Anniecms64 at gmail.com
All things Annie: <http://www.annchiappetta.com> www.annchiappetta.com
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