English Majors and Poets...

[Prince Atom]

The Rape of the Lock is a parody of an epic poem, of course. Its tongue is firmly in its cheek, and it might not be appropriate. Also, its language is very dense. Here are the first two stanzae from Canto I:

What dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs,
What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things,
I sing-This verse to CARYL, Muse! is due;
This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view:
Slight is the Subject, but not so the Praise,
If She inspire, and He approve, my Lays.

Say what strange Motive, Goddess! cou'd compel
A well-bred Lord t'assault a gentle Belle?
Oh say what stranger Cause, yet unexplor'd,
Cou'd make a gentle Belle reject a Lord?
In tasks so bold, can little Men engage,
And in soft Bosoms, dwell such mighty Rage?

Found that here: http://www-unix.oit.umass.edu/~sconstan/

And here's stanza 1 of Canto 1 of Spencer's The Faerie Queene:

A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine,
Y cladd in mightie armes and siluer shielde,
Wherein old dints of deepe wounds did remaine,
The cruell markes of many' a bloudy fielde;
Yet armes till that time did he neuer wield:
His angry steede did chide his foming bitt,
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:
Full iolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.

But one of the best poems about loss that I know is The Pearl, by the author who wrote Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. He is mourning the loss of his own daughter in the poem. This is the first stanza, in which the pearl is a metaphor for his daughter:

Pearl, pleasant to a prince's pleasure,
To cleanly enclose in gold so clear,
Out of the Orient, I boldly say,
None ever proved her precious peer.
So round, so right in each array,
So small, so smooth her sleek sides were;
Whenever I judged gems so gay
I set her singly in singularity.
Alas! I lost her in an herb garden--
Through grass to ground it from me got!
I dwindled, done in by love-distress
For that prize pearl without a spot.

BTW, I found all of these with a few seconds' search on Google, so I recommend it if you're looking for something specific.

TWK

 

[Arravis]

Yeah, I've been goolging the heck out of poetry... just haven't found quite what I'm looking for. I may go with the latest bastardization I have:

Elven-maids there were,
Shining stars by day:
Their mantles white were hemmed with gold,
Their shoes of silver-grey.

Stars were bound upon their brows,
Lights on their hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Semberholme the fair.

Their hair was long, Their limbs were white,
And fair they were and free;
And in the wind they went as light
As leaf of weirwood-tree.

Beside the Falls of Erevan
By water clear and cool,
Their voices as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.

Where now they wander none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Erevan’s home
And in the forests strayed.

The scouts of Semberholme
Beneath the forest eaves
Awaited them, and await them still,
Besides the tearful Semberflow.

But from them has come no word,
And to their forest home
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of their cherished resplendent daughters.

Day after day, day after day
We found, nor breath, nor motion
As idle as a swaying leaf
Upon a painted forest.
And we stand on our long watch
Waiting for our lost beloved.

 

[sniffles]

That looks good, Arravis! I was going to suggest Tolkien, since most of his poetry is about elves. You could check out The Lays of Beleriand, too. I can't think of anything specific there that suits your needs, but it's full of good inspirational material.

As far as Whizbang's comment, who cares if there's lots of bad imitation Tolkien out there? It's only for a game. And your paraphrasing of Tolkien isn't bad at all.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

As far as Whizbang's comment, who cares if there's lots of bad imitation Tolkien out there? It's only for a game.

I want the best stuff possible in my game. YMMV.

 

[Remathilis]

If you want more of a spoof-pop culture version: (you can make the edits yourself)

They made up their minds
And they started packing
They left before the sun came up that day
An exit to eternal summer slacking
But where were they going without ever knowing the way?
They drank up the wine
And they got to talking
They now had more important things to say
And when the car broke down they started walking
Where were they going without ever knowing the way?

Anyone could see the road that they walk on is paved in gold
And it’s always summer, they’ll never get cold
They’ll never get hungry
They’ll never get old and gray
You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere
They won’t make it home
But they really don’t care
They wanted the highway
They’re happy there today , today

The children woke up
And they couldn’t find ’em
They left before the sun came up that day
They just drove off
And left it all behind ’em
But where were they going without ever knowing the way?

Anyone could see the road that they walk on is paved in gold
And it’s always summer, they’ll never get cold
They’ll never get hungry
They’ll never get old and gray
You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere
They won’t make it home
But they really don’t care
They wanted the highway
They’re happy there today , today (repeat)

 

[mythusmage]

Don't know if this is on the web, but it's a marvelous spoof of epic poetry. The source is Douglas C. Kenney and Henry Beard's Bored of the Rings

Excerpt:

A king of elves
there was of old
Saranwrap by name
Who slew the narcs
At mallowmarsh
And Sorehead's host did tame

 

[Arravis]

So, I showed my wife the "latest" version of the poem... she gave me a funny look and said "The last half doesn't really work..." She read it aloud to me, and yep, it bites. So, she sat down at the computer and gave this poor soul some pity and helped me out:

Elven-maids there were,
Shining stars by day:
Their mantles white were hemmed with gold,
Their shoes of silver-grey.

Stars were bound upon their brows,
Lights on their hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Semberholme the fair.

Their hair was long, their limbs were white,
And fair they were and free;
And in the wind they went as light
As leaf of weirwood-tree.

Beside the Falls of Erevan
By water clear and cool,
Their voices as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.

Where now they wander none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Erevan’s home
And in the forests strayed.

With emerald sky above their heads
The scouts of Semberholme
Awaited them, and await them still,
Beside the tearful Semberflow.

But upon the winds no words take flight
Nor lips give song to laughter.
Those resplendent maids of greenest glades
Left behind silence forever after.

Still we stand on our long watch,
Waiting for our maidens to come.
Though day fades to dusk and dusk deepens to night,
The dawn may yet guide their way home.

 

[Harker Wade]

I would ad Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti. It's about a girl who party's with the fae! It would serve the tone you seem to be looking for.

All the all the ones mentioned are great.

 

[MavrickWeirdo]

In the spirit of Goblin Market

Wedding Dance
Lyrics © 1996 by Catherine Faber
melody by Catherine Faber and Arlene Hills,
based on "Old Man From the Barrow" by Heather Alexander

Jenny wouldn't tell me why she lay awake last night,
But I saw her wide eyes glisten in the candle's gauzy light;
When I felt her body tremble to the pounding of her heart,
I reached to touch her shoulder, and I heard the music start.
I sat right up in bed and flung the window shutter wide
My sister's flesh was icy as she shivered at my side
The chestnut cast a shadow as I'd often seen before
But I saw Jenny's eyes and she saw something more--

There is something by the chestnut tree that from the barrow came;
It is singing to my sister, it is courting her by name.
She says that she must marry him the night he comes again;
I'll be rolled in flour and fried before he'll have our Jen!

The flute's my only sweetheart; if this spirit fey and fell
Thinks that music is his power, he may find it's mine as well.
So I told her "Courage Jenny, for I think we have a chance;
Though I cannot stop the wedding, let me play the wedding dance."
It was an eerie wedding night, with no one there to see
A shadow, and a shadow, and my sister there, and me
And when the words were spoken and the spirit turned away,
I lifted flute to lip, and I began to play.

Instrumental break:
flute plays jig melody then chorus melody, as singer lilts

The flute spoke air and dancing; it was all that I could hear,
And the starry sky above us made an icy chandelier
My sister took the hand of someone almost in my view
And drew him, half against his will, till he was dancing too.
Jenny stepped and swirled with a shadow in the gloom
Leading out the dancing, as they must as bride and groom
And shadow doubled shadow, till apparent to my glance,
The kinsmen of the groom were come to join the dance.

I play their dance for hours in the melody entwined
Till Jenny's passing feet are leaving tracks of blood behind.
I see I have accomplished all I hoped I would achieve;
They are captive to the dance, and while I play they cannot leave.
But I cannot play forever here beneath the freezing skies
My arms are made of lead, my hair is hanging in my eyes
My fingers start to falter and to lose their strength and grace
And the look of terror deepens on my sister's face--

(extended instrumental break here)
should sound like flutist is tiring, stumbling, but never quite losing it, always managing to twist it back into a tune--medley of snatches of various dance tunes; bodhran to keep beat going

I force my hands to melody; I know I must prevail
For but a dozen minutes now--the sky is growing pale.
The sun puts forth his finger as a soul in terror moans
And the groom and all the wedding guests are only standing stones...
Jenny crumples suddenly and all my strength is done
And we laugh and cry together and we bless the rising sun
And turn to eye the barrow, for the treasure it may hold--
For Jen's the Master's widow, heir to all his gold!




This is the last song on the Echo's Childern CD: "Under the Gripping Beast".

 

[jsewell]

Personally I'd go with Tennyson's 'Lady of Shalott':
http://www.online-literature.com/tennyson/720/
rewite, but keep the meter, rhyme, and thematic aspects (death, isolation, lonliness, one can't undo an action, etc.)
OR
If you want to go with 'salvation' as a theme, then I'd recommend Rossetti's 'Goblin Merchants' (sorry, no link, and, yes, I realize it can be read in an overly sexual, lesbian context, but I believe that is a misinterpretation)
Other suggestions:
Loss, salvation, despair:

Shelley's 'To The Moon':
http://www.online-literature.com/shelley_percy/678/
Poe's 'Lenore':
http://www.online-literature.com/poe/574/​

There are many other good works, just browse:
http://www.online-literature.com/author_index.php
Avoid Shakespeare, whatever you do.
(EDIT) The key to a good poem is to use as few words as possible. This can't be stressed enough. Free write it, cut it, then cut it again.
Hope this helps.