Rime: Stories About Poetry MJ Millington

In 1724 Margaret Dickson was sentenced to death for alleged infanticide, hanged from a gibbet in the Grassmarket in Edinburgh, pronounced dead—and then woke up a few hours later complaining of a sore neck. She was scorned in street ballads and cheap printed broadsides, only to be celebrated in verse in our own time. She was known as “Half-Hanged Maggie.”

“I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” Long before words like “affirmation” or “motivational” were commonplace, before “inspirational” became an industry, William Ernest Henley—who suffered lifelong illness, amputation, poverty, and devastating loss—wrote a poem reminding all of us not to give up.

December 26th is known by many names, including “Wren Day.” Named after an ancient ritual known as Hunting the Wren, its roots lie in sun-worship and symbolic sacrifice; the death of the old year and the birth of the new. “The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,” the chant begins; and on Wren Day that king, a tiny bird, was hunted, killed and laid to rest, only to sing again with the rising sun. The king is dead; long live the king.

Poet and painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti was obsessed with wombats, as were his siblings and the members of the Pre-Raphaelite movement he founded. Top, the wombat Rossetti acquired in 1869, became legendary in their circle, inspiring poems and drawings and myths that linger to this day. But as so often happens, there was a disconnect between the idea of a wombat and the real creature that all-too-briefly shared Rossetti’s home.

What would you include in a time capsule? Any favorite poems come to mind? They didn’t for the executives of Westinghouse, who created a time capsule for the 1939 World’s Fair that was meant to last 5000 years, but didn’t even include Shakespeare. Don’t worry, though—some poetry found its way inside the time capsule in spite of them, and what’s there holds some surprises.

Time erodes all earthly power and its trappings; though that didn’t stop European countries in the early 19th century from racing to grab up Egypt’s fallen monuments, trying to claim ancient glories for their own. One misidentified fragment in particular had a tumultuous voyage to its new home, at the same moment as the ruler it depicted was being immortalized in Percy Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias.”