You could compare her to a summer's day
But I'll compare her to a winter's night
Darkness and evil is her way
If my heart to see her, it would be in fright
Her beauty is endless but her soul is dark
And more often than not you'll play the fool
When she's done with you, she will have left her mark
Your heart been worked, more than a mule
You'll be a lone, no words to say
And realize tonight that you were wrong
And realize that she wasn't close to a summer's day
Your heart singing a lonely song
Now you know you played the fool
And that in this game, there are no rules.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Modern-Day Rewrite of James Joyce - Claire Dennis
"WE HEAR A TEACHER" by Claire Dennis
We hear a teacher walking down the hall,
Her thunderous steps echo across the floor.
Out of our desks we might fall,
as she approches nearer.
She brings with her a great, tall tower,
a tower of papers and plans.
Each of us fears her fearful power,
as she begins to pass them out.
The endless pages unfold,
and our wide eyes grow even wider.
“Attention, attention,” she scolds.
Why, oh why, must we take this exam?
In red is my use of end rhyme, which I used in the same structure of James Joyce's "I Hear an Army".
In green is my use of the sense of sound, which Joyce emphasizes greatly in "I Hear an Army".
Compared to...
"I HEAR AN ARMY" by James Joyce
I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armor, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
They cry unto the night their battle-name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame.
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.
They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
We hear a teacher walking down the hall,
Her thunderous steps echo across the floor.
Out of our desks we might fall,
as she approches nearer.
She brings with her a great, tall tower,
a tower of papers and plans.
Each of us fears her fearful power,
as she begins to pass them out.
The endless pages unfold,
and our wide eyes grow even wider.
“Attention, attention,” she scolds.
Why, oh why, must we take this exam?
In red is my use of end rhyme, which I used in the same structure of James Joyce's "I Hear an Army".
In green is my use of the sense of sound, which Joyce emphasizes greatly in "I Hear an Army".
Compared to...
"I HEAR AN ARMY" by James Joyce
I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armor, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
They cry unto the night their battle-name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame.
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.
They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
Poem Analysis of James Joyce - Claire Dennis
I HEAR AN ARMY by James Joyce
I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armor, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
They cry unto the night their battle-name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame.
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.
They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
In red is the author’s use of end rhyme.
In orange is the author’s use of repetition.
In purple is the author’s use of personification.
In blue is the author’s use of similies.
Underlined is the author’s point of view. In this poem, he uses first-person.
In green is the author’s use of the sense of sound.
ANALYSIS
In the poem "I Hear An Army" by James Joyce, the poet describes a nightmare about charioteers clad in black armor and with long green hair, riding out of the sea and charging towards him. He uses intense, graphic imagery to portray the powerful image of an army of horses galloping in battle.
Joyce opens the poem with sound, writing “I hear an army charging upon the land”. He employs music in his poem, using his words as lyrics that accompany the underlying beat of his stanzas.
In the second stanza, he uses abrupt, short phrases that emphasize his descriptions of the horses and charioteers. Along with his violent imagery, this stocatta-like phrasing establishes a rhythm for the poem. Maybe it matches the rhythm of the horses’ hooves as they gallop across the shore. Maybe it’s the loud, fast beating of his own anxious heart.
Joyce uses repetition in the fourth stanza to emphasize the “clanging, clanging upon the heart”, which is the action of the charioteers as they “cleave the gloom of dreams”. Again the beat of the poem is detected and builds momentum in the reader’s mind.
The threatening force is portrayed in this poem through the charioteers. Joyce continually refers to the soldiers as “they”, using parallel sentence structure in the third stanza to describe what they do and why they are so fearful. He says the charioteers “come shaking in triumph”, making the charioteers seem powerful and frightening.
His fierce imagery and intricate rhythm in “I Hear an Army” allows Joyce to convince the reader of any emotion he wishes to portray. Although a relatively short poem, “I Hear an Army” certainly does not lack ambition.
I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armor, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
They cry unto the night their battle-name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame.
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.
They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
In red is the author’s use of end rhyme.
In orange is the author’s use of repetition.
In purple is the author’s use of personification.
In blue is the author’s use of similies.
Underlined is the author’s point of view. In this poem, he uses first-person.
In green is the author’s use of the sense of sound.
ANALYSIS
In the poem "I Hear An Army" by James Joyce, the poet describes a nightmare about charioteers clad in black armor and with long green hair, riding out of the sea and charging towards him. He uses intense, graphic imagery to portray the powerful image of an army of horses galloping in battle.
Joyce opens the poem with sound, writing “I hear an army charging upon the land”. He employs music in his poem, using his words as lyrics that accompany the underlying beat of his stanzas.
In the second stanza, he uses abrupt, short phrases that emphasize his descriptions of the horses and charioteers. Along with his violent imagery, this stocatta-like phrasing establishes a rhythm for the poem. Maybe it matches the rhythm of the horses’ hooves as they gallop across the shore. Maybe it’s the loud, fast beating of his own anxious heart.
Joyce uses repetition in the fourth stanza to emphasize the “clanging, clanging upon the heart”, which is the action of the charioteers as they “cleave the gloom of dreams”. Again the beat of the poem is detected and builds momentum in the reader’s mind.
The threatening force is portrayed in this poem through the charioteers. Joyce continually refers to the soldiers as “they”, using parallel sentence structure in the third stanza to describe what they do and why they are so fearful. He says the charioteers “come shaking in triumph”, making the charioteers seem powerful and frightening.
His fierce imagery and intricate rhythm in “I Hear an Army” allows Joyce to convince the reader of any emotion he wishes to portray. Although a relatively short poem, “I Hear an Army” certainly does not lack ambition.
As I Walked Out One Evening Response
I walked out one night
Strolling down
The people on the sidewalk
Looked like clumps of meat
And outside of the IHOP
I heard a hooker shout
Sitting in the parking lot
My love has no doubt
I’ll love you, pimp, I’ll love you
Til weed doesn’t get me high
And your drugs won’t make me crazy
And your punches don’t make me cry
I’ll love you til the Chick fil a
Is open seven days a week
And the seven old cars I have
Won’t continue to leak
The years will pass like quarterbacks
For in my purse I carry
All of your money and drugs
In hope that we will marry
But then the cops in the city
Pull up with their sirens a blow
There is no love here
You are just a ho
From the darkness of the alley
Where our surveillance team stood
They watched you do your business
With people from the hood
Willfully or forcefully
We will have our way
We will finally arrest you
Tomorrow or today
Into many cars we have seen
Women enter with dirty men
But the police shut them down
And we throw them in the den
So cry into your hands
Cry til you can’t see
And think about what you’ve done
And how many men you’ve pleased
The shotgun bangs in the kitchen
The pot screams on the stove
And the duck in the bathtub
Sails to a secret cove
Where the mom’s raffle coupons
And the Bloods are friends with Crips
And every student graduates
And the fat kids can do flips
Take a look in the mirror
Just take a look at what you are
Life can still take you places
Although you can’t go far
Stand by the window
As you start to cry
You can still love your pimp
Even if it’s a lie
It was late, late that night
The ho and pimp were gone
The police turned off their sirens
The IHOP lights were still on
-BOOMTOWN
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Response to Truth
Flee from the press, and dwell in truthfulness, (Assonance)
Let your fortunes suffice, though they be small;
For hoarding breeds hate, and status ambiguousness.
The mob’s filled with envy and blinded by wealth overall.
Desire only things which meet needs most crucial.
Control yourself well, if you’d be others’ gauge;
And the Truth shall you deliver, of that be not afraid.
Haste not to redress all crookedness
Placing trust in her who turns like a ball.
Great good comes from spurning busy-;
Beware then, not to kick against an awl;
Don’t strive like a crock against a wall.
To subdue others' deeds, you must yourself first tame,
And the Truth shall you deliver, of that be not afraid.
That which you’re sent, receive in humbleness;
Wrestling after this World is just begging for a fall.
This is no Home. It’s naught but Wilderness.
Forth, Pilgrim, forth! Forth, beast, out of your stall! (Repetition)
Know your true country! Look up! Thank God for all!
Let your spirit lead, and hold to the High Way,
And the Truth shall you deliver, of that be not afraid.
Essentially what Chaucer is saying in this poem is that if you live life as the universe gives it to you and don’t try and live beyond your means than you will live a good life. It was loved because in this time period people loved poems that had wise meanings or advice. And this one could be no wiser or more advice giving.
Let your fortunes suffice, though they be small;
For hoarding breeds hate, and status ambiguousness.
The mob’s filled with envy and blinded by wealth overall.
Desire only things which meet needs most crucial.
Control yourself well, if you’d be others’ gauge;
And the Truth shall you deliver, of that be not afraid.
Haste not to redress all crookedness
Placing trust in her who turns like a ball.
Great good comes from spurning busy-;
Beware then, not to kick against an awl;
Don’t strive like a crock against a wall.
To subdue others' deeds, you must yourself first tame,
And the Truth shall you deliver, of that be not afraid.
That which you’re sent, receive in humbleness;
Wrestling after this World is just begging for a fall.
This is no Home. It’s naught but Wilderness.
Forth, Pilgrim, forth! Forth, beast, out of your stall! (Repetition)
Know your true country! Look up! Thank God for all!
Let your spirit lead, and hold to the High Way,
And the Truth shall you deliver, of that be not afraid.
Essentially what Chaucer is saying in this poem is that if you live life as the universe gives it to you and don’t try and live beyond your means than you will live a good life. It was loved because in this time period people loved poems that had wise meanings or advice. And this one could be no wiser or more advice giving.
Response
It’s easy to dream of a world
A world with no pain
Where everyone can live together
With nothing to lose and everything to gain
It’s easy to dream of everyone
Living as one
It’s easy to dream of a world
Without the hurtful things that make us dream
War, greed, and even religion
Without them, this world would undoubtedly gleam
It’s easy to dream of everyone
Living in peace
It’s easy to dream that this could be a real dream (oxymoron)
I’m sure there are many just alike
If we find a way to all work together
Our world could find the light
It’s easy to dream of a world
Where money isn’t the goal
Heartless fools try to fill their pockets
When they should be trying to fill their souls (synesthesia)
It’s easy to dream of everyone
Living simply to live
It’s easy to dream that this could be a real dream (oxymoron)
I’m sure there are many just alike
If we find a way to all work together
Our world could find the light
A world with no pain
Where everyone can live together
With nothing to lose and everything to gain
It’s easy to dream of everyone
Living as one
It’s easy to dream of a world
Without the hurtful things that make us dream
War, greed, and even religion
Without them, this world would undoubtedly gleam
It’s easy to dream of everyone
Living in peace
It’s easy to dream that this could be a real dream (oxymoron)
I’m sure there are many just alike
If we find a way to all work together
Our world could find the light
It’s easy to dream of a world
Where money isn’t the goal
Heartless fools try to fill their pockets
When they should be trying to fill their souls (synesthesia)
It’s easy to dream of everyone
Living simply to live
It’s easy to dream that this could be a real dream (oxymoron)
I’m sure there are many just alike
If we find a way to all work together
Our world could find the light
Analysis of Truth
Fle fro the {pres}, and {dwelle} with {sothefastnesse,}
Suffise thin owen thing, thei it be smal;
For hord hath hate, and clymbyng tykelnesse,
Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal.
{Savour} no {more} thanne the {byhove} schal;
Reule weel thiself, that other folk canst reede;
And trouthe schal delyvere, it is no drede.
Tempest the nought al croked to redresse,
In trust of hire that tourneth as a bal.
Myche wele stant in litel besynesse;
Bywar therfore to spurne ayeyns an al;
Stryve not as doth the crokke with the wal.
Suffise thin owen thing, thei it be smal;
For hord hath hate, and clymbyng tykelnesse,
Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal.
{Savour} no {more} thanne the {byhove} schal;
Reule weel thiself, that other folk canst reede;
And trouthe schal delyvere, it is no drede.
Tempest the nought al croked to redresse,
In trust of hire that tourneth as a bal.
Myche wele stant in litel besynesse;
Bywar therfore to spurne ayeyns an al;
Stryve not as doth the crokke with the wal.
[Daunte] thiself, that [dauntest] otheres dede;
And trouthe shal delyvere, it is no drede.
That the is sent, receyve in buxumnesse;
The [[wrestlyng]] for the worlde [[axeth]] a fal.
Here is non home, here [[nys]] but [[wyldernesse]].
Forth, pylgryme, forth! forth, beste, out of thi stal!
Know thi contré! loke up! thonk God of al!
Hold the heye weye, and lat thi gost the lede;
And trouthe shal delyvere, it is no drede.
Essentially what Chaucer is saying in this poem is that if you live life as the universe gives it to you and don’t try and live beyond your means than you will live a good life. It was loved because in this time period people loved poems that had wise meanings or advice. And this one could be no wiser or more advice giving.
And trouthe shal delyvere, it is no drede.
That the is sent, receyve in buxumnesse;
The [[wrestlyng]] for the worlde [[axeth]] a fal.
Here is non home, here [[nys]] but [[wyldernesse]].
Forth, pylgryme, forth! forth, beste, out of thi stal!
Know thi contré! loke up! thonk God of al!
Hold the heye weye, and lat thi gost the lede;
And trouthe shal delyvere, it is no drede.
Essentially what Chaucer is saying in this poem is that if you live life as the universe gives it to you and don’t try and live beyond your means than you will live a good life. It was loved because in this time period people loved poems that had wise meanings or advice. And this one could be no wiser or more advice giving.
{Assonance}
[Repetition]
[[Internal Rhyme]]
Rewrite
Eagerly I walked into
the marsh
In the time of the liliaceace,
Till moistness like in a swedish sauna
Radiated, surpressed me. I was stuck
petrified and disoriented
by charm that is her own leper.
Now I depart the final strait
Shamefully, in a corner, without an ally
As any peering Sioux to Saskastchewan.
the marsh
In the time of the liliaceace,
Till moistness like in a swedish sauna
Radiated, surpressed me. I was stuck
petrified and disoriented
by charm that is her own leper.
Now I depart the final strait
Shamefully, in a corner, without an ally
As any peering Sioux to Saskastchewan.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Mondern day language of "Moving Back" from Out of Africa (1944)
We headed back one mo’ gain
To the mud and the rain
Where the choppas sound off (oxymoron)
And the rocks bleed out
To the mud and the rain
Where the choppas sound off (oxymoron)
And the rocks bleed out
We are leaving the cold A/C
Once more we are called out
Back to the hood
Its just understood
We headed back one mo’gain
To where our homies got merked
To the rain soaked gutters
We don’t nut up
We creepin quiet: but stare only
(Gut squeezes, a minutes hesitation)
“Who will get got dis time by the boys in blue (metonomy)
And for what crime?”
Poem turned song. "Maxwell's Silver Hammer"
Joan was quizzical, studied metaphysicalScience in the homeLate nights all alone with a test-tubeOhh-oh-oh-oh...Maxwell Edison majoring in medicineCalls her on the phone"Can I take you out to the picturesJoa-oa-oa-oan?"But as she's getting ready to goA knock comes on the door...Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerCame down upon her headBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerMade sure that she was deadBack in school again Maxwell plays the fool againTeacher gets annoyedWishing to avoid an unpleasant sce-e-e-eneShe tells Max to stay when the class has gone awaySo he waits behindWriting 50 times "I must not be so-o-o-oo..."But when she turns her back on the boyHe creeps up from behindBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerCame down upon her headBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerMade sure that she was deadB.C. Thirty-One said "we caught a dirty one"Maxwell stands alonePainting testimonial pictures ohh-oh-oh-ohRose and Valerie screaming from the gallerySay he must go free (Maxwell must go free)The judge does not agree and he tells them so-o-o-ooBut as the words are leaving his lipsA noise comes from behindBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerCame down upon his headBang, Bang, Maxwell's silver hammerMade sure that he was dead
Paul McCartney Bio
Paul McCartney is a British singer and song writer, he has also been known to experiment in other forms of art such as painting and poetry. McCartney was born on June 18, 1942 in Liverpool, England. He grew up there with his father, James McCartney, mother, Mary McCartney, and his younger brother and sister.
When Paul McCartney was a child, his mother, Mary McCartney, would read him poems and sparked the young rock star’s interest in poetry and writing. McCartney was also fond of crossword puzzles which increased his vocabulary significantly. Unfortunately however, when McCartney was only fourteen years old, his mother had passed away due to breast cancer back in October of 1956.
Paul McCartney met the young John Lennon in 1957. The duo banded together to form a band which eventually became known as the Beatles. About a year later, Lennon’s mother was hit by a police car which resulted in her death. McCartney was able to relate to dealing with the death of a mother which only brought the boys closer together.
Both Paul McCartney and John Lennon were the main songwriters for the Beatles. Paul McCartney had touched poetry a little bit which led to the creation of a few songs recorded by the group. The song “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” was originally a poem created out of humor by McCartney. As far as actual songwriting goes, McCartney was the writer for the more “hardcore” sounding songs recorded by the Beatles. The Beatles eventually broke up in 1970, and Paul McCartney chose to pursue a solo career where he released two albums, one that year and another the following year. It was also during the 1970’s where Paul McCartney had been inspired to also become a painter.
McCartney married a woman by the name of Linda Eastman. She was an American photographer and also musician. Tragically, the former wife of Paul McCartney died of cancer in 1998. Just one year after McCartney was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II for his “services to music.”
As respected as McCartney is, he also has lived with his own vices. McCartney was introduced to Marijuana along with the other Beatles by fellow rock star Bob Dylan. Marijuana related criteria became more prevalent in the lyrics of the Beatles. The consumption of cannabis became regular to McCartney. McCartney has been arrested on multiple occasions due to possession.
Following the murder of John Lennon back in 1980, news media had asked McCartney his feelings about the incident to which he replied that it was a “drag.” McCartney was highly criticized for his seemingly dry response over the death of his friend and former band mate. Paul McCartney stated that he meant every melancholic sound of his statement. However, when McCartney was quoted in print, his words seemed much less caring than actually intended.
Despite the loss of close friends and family, McCartney’s music career as a singer as well as a songwriter, is still highly respected. McCartney is arguably one of the most commercially successful music artists of all time.
When Paul McCartney was a child, his mother, Mary McCartney, would read him poems and sparked the young rock star’s interest in poetry and writing. McCartney was also fond of crossword puzzles which increased his vocabulary significantly. Unfortunately however, when McCartney was only fourteen years old, his mother had passed away due to breast cancer back in October of 1956.
Paul McCartney met the young John Lennon in 1957. The duo banded together to form a band which eventually became known as the Beatles. About a year later, Lennon’s mother was hit by a police car which resulted in her death. McCartney was able to relate to dealing with the death of a mother which only brought the boys closer together.
Both Paul McCartney and John Lennon were the main songwriters for the Beatles. Paul McCartney had touched poetry a little bit which led to the creation of a few songs recorded by the group. The song “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” was originally a poem created out of humor by McCartney. As far as actual songwriting goes, McCartney was the writer for the more “hardcore” sounding songs recorded by the Beatles. The Beatles eventually broke up in 1970, and Paul McCartney chose to pursue a solo career where he released two albums, one that year and another the following year. It was also during the 1970’s where Paul McCartney had been inspired to also become a painter.
McCartney married a woman by the name of Linda Eastman. She was an American photographer and also musician. Tragically, the former wife of Paul McCartney died of cancer in 1998. Just one year after McCartney was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II for his “services to music.”
As respected as McCartney is, he also has lived with his own vices. McCartney was introduced to Marijuana along with the other Beatles by fellow rock star Bob Dylan. Marijuana related criteria became more prevalent in the lyrics of the Beatles. The consumption of cannabis became regular to McCartney. McCartney has been arrested on multiple occasions due to possession.
Following the murder of John Lennon back in 1980, news media had asked McCartney his feelings about the incident to which he replied that it was a “drag.” McCartney was highly criticized for his seemingly dry response over the death of his friend and former band mate. Paul McCartney stated that he meant every melancholic sound of his statement. However, when McCartney was quoted in print, his words seemed much less caring than actually intended.
Despite the loss of close friends and family, McCartney’s music career as a singer as well as a songwriter, is still highly respected. McCartney is arguably one of the most commercially successful music artists of all time.
Poetic response: The charge of the light brigade
1.5 miles, 1.5 miles,1.5 miles, keep on truckin,they all rode into Death Valley,"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Aim for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred soldiers.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismayed? the soldier didn’t knowSomeone messed up:There’s no reason to complain,There’s no reason to question,There’s only a reason to die.Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred soldiers.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,they rode boldly,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of HellRode the six hundred.
They pulled out their gats,They brandished their concealed weapons,They prepared to bust a cap,Charging an army, whileEveryone was confused:They air was filled with smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and Russiankilled by another violent crimeWith their heads busted.Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,All the soldiers died,They that had shot so wellCame through the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them,Left of six hundred.
Can they be forgotten? Oh what a stupid thing they diderrbody was confused af.Lets not forget the folk who died, even though they did something stupid, honor the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismayed? the soldier didn’t knowSomeone messed up:There’s no reason to complain,There’s no reason to question,There’s only a reason to die.Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred soldiers.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,they rode boldly,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of HellRode the six hundred.
They pulled out their gats,They brandished their concealed weapons,They prepared to bust a cap,Charging an army, whileEveryone was confused:They air was filled with smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and Russiankilled by another violent crimeWith their heads busted.Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,All the soldiers died,They that had shot so wellCame through the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them,Left of six hundred.
Can they be forgotten? Oh what a stupid thing they diderrbody was confused af.Lets not forget the folk who died, even though they did something stupid, honor the six hundred.
Poetic Analysis of "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth
Daffodils by William Wordsworth
This poem exemplifies Wordsworth’s writing style quite well. Wordsworth’s poems often consist of him recounting his memories of nature, in this case a field of daffodils. He beautifully describes the daffodils and compares them to other parts of nature. He tells of how his memory of them can bring him joy even when he is alone and away from nature.
Poetic Devices
(Personification)
(Simile)
(End Rhyme)
(Imagery)
(Hyperbole)
(Alliteration)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
This poem exemplifies Wordsworth’s writing style quite well. Wordsworth’s poems often consist of him recounting his memories of nature, in this case a field of daffodils. He beautifully describes the daffodils and compares them to other parts of nature. He tells of how his memory of them can bring him joy even when he is alone and away from nature.
Poetic Devices
(Personification)
(Simile)
(End Rhyme)
(Imagery)
(Hyperbole)
(Alliteration)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
The Life of James Joyce - Claire Dennis
For James Joyce, writing was a constant struggle. His works were censored, banned and even burned. Before he was 40 years old, he had undergone 10 eye operations and was nearly blind. He lived in dire poverty for the majority of his life. And even with these terrific odds against him, Joyce prevailed and went on to write some of the strangest and most extraordinary works in the history of British poetry.
James Joyce was born in 1882 in Rathgar, a suburb of Dublin, Ireland. His father, John, had run down his distillery business, and continued to try a variety of professions, including politics and tax collecting. His mother, Mary Jane, was a devout Catholic woman who played the piano and worked to hide the family’s poverty, maintaining a solid middle-class façade. James grew up attending Jesuit schools in Dublin, and attended the University College, Dublin. After his graduation in 1902, he fled from his dissatisfaction with the dirty, boring city, packed his bags, left his family behind and began his exploration of the world.
In his middle years, Joyce studied medicine, almost became a professional singer, taught languages in Trieste and Switzerland, and finally settled in Paris to focus on literature. However, James’ plans changed when his mother died in 1904, and, after the onset of World War I, he moved with his family to Zurich, Switzerland, where he began developing the characters of his novel Ulysses. After a few years with his family, James moved back again to Paris, and in 1922, his novel Ulysses was published. Soon after, James began experiencing chronic eye troubles caused by glaucoma, and still lived in great poverty. However, Joyce continued his passion for writing and published his novels, Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a play called Exilesin and a collection of poems called Chamber Music.
In these works, James is noted for his experimentation in diction and use of language. What he wrote seemed far advanced for the literature of his time period. He invented words, used puns and alluded to mythology, history and literature in his writing. Often his works included an extensive interior monologue, which was technically innovative for that time.
In 1931, James married a chambermaid named Nora Barnacle, and dedicated the rest of his life to his writing. He never had kids and he never achieved fame or financial fortune during his lifetime. In 1941, just before his fifty-ninth birthday, James died of blindness, illness and poverty in Zurich, Switzerland after the fall of France in World War II.
Although he was confronted with constant adversity throughout his life and was never satisfied with his works, James’ reputation has grown immensely since his death, and today his literature is studied across the world.
James Joyce was born in 1882 in Rathgar, a suburb of Dublin, Ireland. His father, John, had run down his distillery business, and continued to try a variety of professions, including politics and tax collecting. His mother, Mary Jane, was a devout Catholic woman who played the piano and worked to hide the family’s poverty, maintaining a solid middle-class façade. James grew up attending Jesuit schools in Dublin, and attended the University College, Dublin. After his graduation in 1902, he fled from his dissatisfaction with the dirty, boring city, packed his bags, left his family behind and began his exploration of the world.
In his middle years, Joyce studied medicine, almost became a professional singer, taught languages in Trieste and Switzerland, and finally settled in Paris to focus on literature. However, James’ plans changed when his mother died in 1904, and, after the onset of World War I, he moved with his family to Zurich, Switzerland, where he began developing the characters of his novel Ulysses. After a few years with his family, James moved back again to Paris, and in 1922, his novel Ulysses was published. Soon after, James began experiencing chronic eye troubles caused by glaucoma, and still lived in great poverty. However, Joyce continued his passion for writing and published his novels, Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a play called Exilesin and a collection of poems called Chamber Music.
In these works, James is noted for his experimentation in diction and use of language. What he wrote seemed far advanced for the literature of his time period. He invented words, used puns and alluded to mythology, history and literature in his writing. Often his works included an extensive interior monologue, which was technically innovative for that time.
In 1931, James married a chambermaid named Nora Barnacle, and dedicated the rest of his life to his writing. He never had kids and he never achieved fame or financial fortune during his lifetime. In 1941, just before his fifty-ninth birthday, James died of blindness, illness and poverty in Zurich, Switzerland after the fall of France in World War II.
Although he was confronted with constant adversity throughout his life and was never satisfied with his works, James’ reputation has grown immensely since his death, and today his literature is studied across the world.
Daneidra's Devine Image
To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
Everybody pray for their miseries;
Prayer shows the value of joy
Which is return in gratitude.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
God is our father first,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love is man, (alliteration) (repetition)
Who he care for as his child.
Mercy is the human heart, (consonance)
Pity is the human face,
Love makes the human supernatural,
Peace is the human clothing.
Then every man from everywhere,
That prays for his miseries,
Prays to the supernatural human,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace. (stanza)
All must love a God,
That are not believers of the Christian God , Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity remain
There God will always stay.
Everybody pray for their miseries;
Prayer shows the value of joy
Which is return in gratitude.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
God is our father first,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love is man, (alliteration) (repetition)
Who he care for as his child.
Mercy is the human heart, (consonance)
Pity is the human face,
Love makes the human supernatural,
Peace is the human clothing.
Then every man from everywhere,
That prays for his miseries,
Prays to the supernatural human,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace. (stanza)
All must love a God,
That are not believers of the Christian God , Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity remain
There God will always stay.
Rewrite of “At the Window”
The looming Oak trees pick up the voices of the wind
That caused an uproar of laughs from the weeping willows;
As the sun knew it was time for its shield of light to rescind.
Between the two mountains the graveyard becomes hidden,
By the grey cloak of mist that envelope the tombstones, while
The light of the lampposts ooze out, revealing the forbidden.
The green foliage of the trees chat as they soar past the window pain,
To the eager, heavy eyes (Synesthesia) alert on the face looking from the blackness (Metonomy)
At the mystical scene which from this window will never wane.
The looming Oak trees pick up the voices of the wind
That caused an uproar of laughs from the weeping willows;
As the sun knew it was time for its shield of light to rescind.
Between the two mountains the graveyard becomes hidden,
By the grey cloak of mist that envelope the tombstones, while
The light of the lampposts ooze out, revealing the forbidden.
The green foliage of the trees chat as they soar past the window pain,
To the eager, heavy eyes (Synesthesia) alert on the face looking from the blackness (Metonomy)
At the mystical scene which from this window will never wane.
The Charge of the Light Brigade
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, (repetition)All in the valley of DeathRode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!"Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knewSomeone had blunder'd:Theirs not to make reply, (end rhyme)Theirs not to reason why, (end rhyme)Theirs but to do and die: (end rhyme)Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them, (repetition)Cannon to left of them, (repetition)Cannon in front of them (repetition)Volley'd and thunder'd; (internal rhyme)Storm'd at with shot and shell, (end rhyme)Boldly they rode and well, (end rhyme)Into the jaws of Death, (metaphor)Into the mouth of Hell (end rhyme)Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabers bare, (end rhyme)Flash'd as they turn'd in air, (end rhyme)Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, whileAll the world wonder'd: (alliteration)Plunged in the battery-smoke (end rhyme)Right thro' the line they broke; (end rhyme)Cossack and RussianReel'd from the saber stroke (end rhyme)Shatter'd and sunder'd. (end rhyme)Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred. (end rhyme)
Cannon to right of them, (repetition)Cannon to left of them, (repetition)Cannon behind them (repetition)Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell, (end rhyme)While horse and hero fell, (end rhyme)They that had fought so well (end rhyme)Came thro' the jaws of Death (metaphor)Back from the mouth of Hell, (end rhyme)All that was left of them,Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade? (end rhyme)O the wild charge they made! (end rhyme)All the world wondered. (end rhyme)Honor the charge they made, (end rhyme)Honor the Light Brigade,Noble six hundred. (end rhyme)
This is written in 3rd person. Tells the story of the Charge of the Light Brigade, which was a battle in the 1850’s. British troops fought against Russians, there was a miscommunication and many British soldiers were killed. This poem honored the men who died and the battle is still remembered in the UK. This is remembered in a way that Americans remember the Alamo. A battle with very high casualties but we still honor the soldier’s bravery. The themes exemplified in the poem include; bravery, honor, death, violence, glory, and being noble.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
We are going back again
To the mud and the rain
Where the guns complain (personification)
And the stones stain.
We are leaving the mountain snow.
Once more it is our turn to go
Back to the advanced foe.
It is just we know . . .
We are going back again
To our comrades' graves on the plain,
To the graves sunk in the rain
We do not complain.
We say nothing: but think only
(Heart-constricted, a moment lonely):
"Who will be killed this time
And for what crime?" (endrhyme)
-John Gawsworth
To the mud and the rain
Where the guns complain (personification)
And the stones stain.
We are leaving the mountain snow.
Once more it is our turn to go
Back to the advanced foe.
It is just we know . . .
We are going back again
To our comrades' graves on the plain,
To the graves sunk in the rain
We do not complain.
We say nothing: but think only
(Heart-constricted, a moment lonely):
"Who will be killed this time
And for what crime?" (endrhyme)
-John Gawsworth
This poem is talking about soilders in fighting in a war, most likely World War 2 and how much they hate it. it is specifically talking about soilders who are returining to the fight after they were on R & R (rest and relaxation), or even veteran soildres who were coming back from a diffrent war who were dreading the fighting and the bloodshed. it states at the end that the soilders are wonderign who will die in this battle, and who will they die, which is a very real and present thought in soilders when they go off to war. the underlying theme in this poem is that no matter how much they dread and hate war, thatr they will always return because they are ordered to, or feel as though it is their duty.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
LIGHTHEARTED I walked into
the valley wood
In the time of hyacinths ( imagery)
Till beauty like a scented cloth ( similie) Cast over, stifled me. I was bound
Motionless and faint of breath ( imagery)
By loveliness that is her own eunuch.(Metaphor)
Now pass I the final riverIgnominiously, in a sack, without a sound, ( imagery)
As any peeping Turk to the Bosphorous. ( similie and symbolism)
Wow! I must say that when I initially read this poem I was all sorts of confused. There are so many poetic and rhetorical devices, and words and references that just didn't quite make sense to me at first. Now fully understanding what the poem means, my mind has been blown to a million little pieces!
One very interesting thing to take note of is that the tense in this short 10 line poem changes. Lines 1-7 are in the past, and lines 8-10 are in the present. With the change over of tenses you can infer that Hulme's physical and even psychological presence, in lines 1-7, are different than lines 8-10. Imagery is the most often used poetic device in this poem. Hulme uses it to set the scenery of springtime in the forest in lines 1-3, and he uses it again in line 6 to describe his physical reaction to great beauty. I would also like to clarify that the word hyacinth is one not known by many unless you've studied horticulture. Hyacinth is the plant also known as Baby's Breath. Line 7 is also one that really gave me a challenge when analyzing it. What makes this a metaphor, are the clauses "by loveliness" and "her own eunuch". Metaphors compare two things that are seemingly unlike. Eunuch, is simply a man who is castrated for religious purposes, opera purposes, or class system purposes. The sight he saw was not actually pleasant but one that frightened him and maybe even disgusted him. In lines 8-10, the tense changes to the present. My interpretation of this might be a bit outlandish, but I believe that Hulme is dead. When he says that he's "passes the final river" it's a symbol for passing through the final stages from life to death. Ignominiously is another word for shamefully. I believe that the entire poem is describing the feeling of dying. The last line is relating the motion of passing through the river to Turks passing through the body of water that separates Europe from Asia.
You Are Old, Father William Poem Analysis
'You are old, Father William', the young man said,
'And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
''In my youth', Father William replied to his son,
'I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.
''You are old', said the youth, 'as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray, what is the reason of that?'
'In my youth', said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
'I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box -
Allow me to sell you a couple?'
'You are old', said the youth, 'and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -
Pray, how did you manage to do it?
''In my youth', said his father, 'I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.
''You are old', said the youth, 'one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -
What made you so awfully clever?
''I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'
Said his father, 'don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!'
This poem is a parody of Robert Southey's "The Old Man's Comforts and How He Gained Them"
In this poem, the son is very age-obsessed because he keeps reminding his father of how old he is. The son repeatedly tells the father that he is old and asks him why he does the things he does now. The father tells his son that when he was young, he was scared of doing things that are risky or scary but now, his age does not matter to him and is just a number. The son is very arrogant in a way because all the thinks of his father is a age and questions his actions. Despite the fact that the father is old, he seems pretty content with the fact he is getting older and at the end seems annoyed with his son. This poem has end rhythm, the rhythm scheme is ABAB, the poem has anapest, and it is burlesque it also has hyperbole in it. This poem is repeative in the sense that the son tells the father he's old, the son questions the father, the father rebuddles back and shuts the son up.
'And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
''In my youth', Father William replied to his son,
'I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.
''You are old', said the youth, 'as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray, what is the reason of that?'
'In my youth', said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
'I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box -
Allow me to sell you a couple?'
'You are old', said the youth, 'and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -
Pray, how did you manage to do it?
''In my youth', said his father, 'I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.
''You are old', said the youth, 'one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -
What made you so awfully clever?
''I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'
Said his father, 'don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!'
This poem is a parody of Robert Southey's "The Old Man's Comforts and How He Gained Them"
In this poem, the son is very age-obsessed because he keeps reminding his father of how old he is. The son repeatedly tells the father that he is old and asks him why he does the things he does now. The father tells his son that when he was young, he was scared of doing things that are risky or scary but now, his age does not matter to him and is just a number. The son is very arrogant in a way because all the thinks of his father is a age and questions his actions. Despite the fact that the father is old, he seems pretty content with the fact he is getting older and at the end seems annoyed with his son. This poem has end rhythm, the rhythm scheme is ABAB, the poem has anapest, and it is burlesque it also has hyperbole in it. This poem is repeative in the sense that the son tells the father he's old, the son questions the father, the father rebuddles back and shuts the son up.
We are going back again
To the mud and the rain
Where the guns complain
And the stones stain.
To the mud and the rain
Where the guns complain
And the stones stain.
We are leaving the mountain snow.
Once more it is our turn to go
Back to the advanced foe.
It is just we know . . .
We are going back again
To our comrades' graves on the plain,
To the graves sunk in the rain
We do not complain.
We say nothing: but think only
(Heart-constricted, a moment lonely):
"Who will be killed this time
And for what crime?"
-John Gawsworth
As I Walked Out One Evening Analysis
As I Walked Out One Evening is not the traditional love poem. The first time I read it, it was obvious that the main subject was love. But just like every poem I read, I knew it was much deeper than that. While reading the poem a second time, I realized that the tone changes twice; each time representing a new narrator. The three different narrators have their own opinion about the battle of love versus time. The first narrator is the lovers. They believe that their love is timeless as if time was an avoidable object that could be ignored. They make their love seem perfect as if it could only be stopped when “
This poem which is told from a 1st person point-of-view makes use of many poetic devices. The most obvious is imagery. Auden uses lines like “The crowds upon the pavement were fields of harvest wheat” to create the setting of the poem. His use of personification is what makes the element of time an intriguing figure. The poem has an “abcb” rhyme scheme in every stanza which flows with the meter of the poem. There are a few acts of alliteration throughout and he uses repetition at key points during the poem.
-BOOMTOWN
William Blake's Devine Image
William Blake’s “The Divine Image” reveals how he sees God in our world. In the poem, Blake express man prays when he/she is in distress or in need of something. There are four words Blake makes huge emphases on. Mercy, pity, peace, and love are all words God says we should live with. Then Blake makes these words as a human that we pray to. When you pray to this human of the four words, these words and God will live permanently in your life.
To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
All pray in their distress; (end rhyme)
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness. (end rhyme)
For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love is man, (alliteration) (repetition)
His child and care. (consonance)
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face, (personification)
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace. (stanza)
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.
To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
All pray in their distress; (end rhyme)
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness. (end rhyme)
For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love (alliteration) (repetition)
Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love is man, (alliteration) (repetition)
His child and care. (consonance)
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face, (personification)
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace. (stanza)
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.
Analysis of John Milton's "On His Blidness"
The poem that I have chosen to analyze is “On His Blindness” by John Milton. The main theme of this poem is John’s exploration of his emotions. The subject of this poem is how John has wasted his sight and how he disregarded his spirituality. The basic meaning of this poem is that while he was able to see John wasted this ability he also neglected his spirituality now he is surrounded by darkness.
On His Blidness by John Milton
When I consider how my light is spent (Metaphor)
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide (Alliteraiton),
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
'Doth God (Allusion) exact day labor, light denied?'
I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent
That murmur soon replies (Personification), 'God (Allusion) doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait
On His Blidness by John Milton
When I consider how my light is spent (Metaphor)
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide (Alliteraiton),
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
'Doth God (Allusion) exact day labor, light denied?'
I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent
That murmur soon replies (Personification), 'God (Allusion) doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait
Imagine
In this poem, John Lennon is basically asking us to imagine a world without many of the things that cause problems in the world. Even though this poem was reflecting the times in which it was written, these problems are still prevalent today. In the poem, Lennon asks you to imagine a world with no religions, no countries, nothing to kill and die for, no possessions, no greed or hunger, and no heaven or hell. The poem explains that if this were possible, “the world will be as one.” The poem says that people will be living for today and living in peace as we share the world. Though this is a wonderful idea, I don't think it could ever become a reality. I join Lennon as a "dreamer;" however, I feel that this idea will remain only as a dream.
Imagine there's no Heaven (parallelism)
It's easy if you try (end rhyme)
No hell below us
Above us only sky (end rhyme)
Imagine all the people (repitition)
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries (parallelism)
It isn't hard to do (end rhyme)
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too (end rhyme)
Imagine all the people (reptition)
Living life in peace (alliteration)
You may say that I'm a dreamer (internal rhyme)
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one (alliteration)
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can (end rhyme)
No need for greed or hunger (internal rhyme)
A brotherhood of man (end rhyme)
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world (parallelism)
You may say that I'm a dreamer (internal rhyme)
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one (alliteration)
Imagine there's no Heaven (parallelism)
It's easy if you try (end rhyme)
No hell below us
Above us only sky (end rhyme)
Imagine all the people (repitition)
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries (parallelism)
It isn't hard to do (end rhyme)
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too (end rhyme)
Imagine all the people (reptition)
Living life in peace (alliteration)
You may say that I'm a dreamer (internal rhyme)
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one (alliteration)
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can (end rhyme)
No need for greed or hunger (internal rhyme)
A brotherhood of man (end rhyme)
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world (parallelism)
You may say that I'm a dreamer (internal rhyme)
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one (alliteration)
"At The Window"
The pine-trees bend to listen (Personification) to the Autumn wind as it mutters
Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter (Synesthesia);
While slowly the {house of day (Metonomy for day) is closing its eastern shutters}metaphor (Personification).
Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede,
Winding about their dimness the mist's grey cerements (metonomy for fog) ,after
[The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed (End Rhyme).] metaphor
The leaves {fly over the window and utter a word (Personification) as they pass} Paralleslism
To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes (Imagery)
That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass.
"At the Window", a structured poem by D. H. Lawrence, is full of personification and imagery of the outdoors. It is in third person from the point of view of an onlooker at a window. The living and nonliving aspects of the outdoors are given human qualities; this devise is called personification. It is as if the weather and outdoor objects are communicating in conversation. The imagery gives the poem a more real and vivid description of the view the person sees from the window. The reader should be able to see the trees laughing and the mist physicallly covering the graveyard. D. H. Lawrence wonderfully allows the reader to feel and relate to the emotion in the outdoor scene. I think that he adds in the last two sentences about the onlooker because the readers can put themselves in the place of the watcher in order to more emotionally feel connected to the scene. The first stanza has a happy anf joyful mood because the trees are laughing and listening to the wind. It ends with the closing of day and is followed by the second stanza which describes night. The imagery is more eerie and dark, using words like "bleed" and "cerements". The last stanza describes the messenger as wind giving a message to the onlooker. The change in mood throughout the poem gives it more emotion and substance.
The pine-trees bend to listen (Personification) to the Autumn wind as it mutters
Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter (Synesthesia);
While slowly the {house of day (Metonomy for day) is closing its eastern shutters}metaphor (Personification).
Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede,
Winding about their dimness the mist's grey cerements (metonomy for fog) ,after
[The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed (End Rhyme).] metaphor
The leaves {fly over the window and utter a word (Personification) as they pass} Paralleslism
To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes (Imagery)
That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass.
"At the Window", a structured poem by D. H. Lawrence, is full of personification and imagery of the outdoors. It is in third person from the point of view of an onlooker at a window. The living and nonliving aspects of the outdoors are given human qualities; this devise is called personification. It is as if the weather and outdoor objects are communicating in conversation. The imagery gives the poem a more real and vivid description of the view the person sees from the window. The reader should be able to see the trees laughing and the mist physicallly covering the graveyard. D. H. Lawrence wonderfully allows the reader to feel and relate to the emotion in the outdoor scene. I think that he adds in the last two sentences about the onlooker because the readers can put themselves in the place of the watcher in order to more emotionally feel connected to the scene. The first stanza has a happy anf joyful mood because the trees are laughing and listening to the wind. It ends with the closing of day and is followed by the second stanza which describes night. The imagery is more eerie and dark, using words like "bleed" and "cerements". The last stanza describes the messenger as wind giving a message to the onlooker. The change in mood throughout the poem gives it more emotion and substance.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Poem Analysis
A Boat Beneath the Sunny Sky
By Lewis Carroll
A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?
alliteration
end rhyme
metaphor
personification
allusion
repition
A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky is a seemingly lighthearted and whimsical poem about the boatride that Charles Dodgson went on with Alice Liddell and her two sisters. It was on this boat ride that Dodgson told the three girls the story of Wonderland, which served as his rough draft version of the Alice books. This poem begins as a remembrance of this specific ride. The tone of this first stanza seems happy and alluring, as it is summer time and the group is on a leisurely boat ride on the river. The tone changes suddenly in the third stanza; words like "die," "fade," and "slain" show that something negative has occurred. I believe this specific stanza to relates to Alice's growing up, and the falling out between the Liddell's and Dodgson. Alice's change has saddened Charles, as he was in love with her childhood self, and the imagination and innocence it entailed. He goes on to talk about how Alice "haunts" him, which further reiterates that she has grown up, but the younger version still is on his mind, constantly reminding him of his obsession.
The fifth stanza lightens the mood a bit, because it talks of new youngsters- "children yet"- that will hear and carry on with them the tale of Wonderland. Carroll finally alludes to the tales of Alice in Wonderland in the first line of the fifth stanza, but combines it with the suggestion of the passage of time. It's depressing how this stanza shows hope for the eternity of childhood, but then proceeds to admit that these children will too grow up and forget their youth by saying "dreaming as the days go by...summers die."
The very last stanza reverts attention back to the actual setting of the boat ride, where Carroll uses a metaphor to relate the boat to life, and then calls life "a dream." I think this is Carroll's way of saying that in reality life is just the way it is, people grow old, memories are forgetten, and there's not much to do about it. In the last line he gives the solution to this fact by claiming life to be a dream, and since it's no longer reality, Carroll makes the point that nothing matters because it's all just make-believe anyway, which is extremely characteristic of Carroll.
The basis for this poem is the loss of Carroll's loved one. Alice grew up and forgot her childhood, which was everything he loved about her. This poem is Carroll's reflection of the sad truth that everyone grows up, leaving behind all the great things about being young and naive, and that no matter how hard you try, nothing stays the same. In a broader sense, the message Dodgson was trying to get across was to enjoy the times of youth, because that in itself is more beneficial than anything else.
ASHLEY
By Lewis Carroll
A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?
alliteration
end rhyme
metaphor
personification
allusion
repition
A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky is a seemingly lighthearted and whimsical poem about the boatride that Charles Dodgson went on with Alice Liddell and her two sisters. It was on this boat ride that Dodgson told the three girls the story of Wonderland, which served as his rough draft version of the Alice books. This poem begins as a remembrance of this specific ride. The tone of this first stanza seems happy and alluring, as it is summer time and the group is on a leisurely boat ride on the river. The tone changes suddenly in the third stanza; words like "die," "fade," and "slain" show that something negative has occurred. I believe this specific stanza to relates to Alice's growing up, and the falling out between the Liddell's and Dodgson. Alice's change has saddened Charles, as he was in love with her childhood self, and the imagination and innocence it entailed. He goes on to talk about how Alice "haunts" him, which further reiterates that she has grown up, but the younger version still is on his mind, constantly reminding him of his obsession.
The fifth stanza lightens the mood a bit, because it talks of new youngsters- "children yet"- that will hear and carry on with them the tale of Wonderland. Carroll finally alludes to the tales of Alice in Wonderland in the first line of the fifth stanza, but combines it with the suggestion of the passage of time. It's depressing how this stanza shows hope for the eternity of childhood, but then proceeds to admit that these children will too grow up and forget their youth by saying "dreaming as the days go by...summers die."
The very last stanza reverts attention back to the actual setting of the boat ride, where Carroll uses a metaphor to relate the boat to life, and then calls life "a dream." I think this is Carroll's way of saying that in reality life is just the way it is, people grow old, memories are forgetten, and there's not much to do about it. In the last line he gives the solution to this fact by claiming life to be a dream, and since it's no longer reality, Carroll makes the point that nothing matters because it's all just make-believe anyway, which is extremely characteristic of Carroll.
The basis for this poem is the loss of Carroll's loved one. Alice grew up and forgot her childhood, which was everything he loved about her. This poem is Carroll's reflection of the sad truth that everyone grows up, leaving behind all the great things about being young and naive, and that no matter how hard you try, nothing stays the same. In a broader sense, the message Dodgson was trying to get across was to enjoy the times of youth, because that in itself is more beneficial than anything else.
ASHLEY
As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.
And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.
'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.
'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.
'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.
'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.
'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.
'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'
It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
-BOOMTOWN
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.
And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.
'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.
'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.
'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.
'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.
'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.
'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'
It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
-BOOMTOWN
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
In analyzing the 18th Shakespearean sonnet, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day,” I have come to attain a great amount of information about this poem. Let’s start with simply what the poem is saying:
Shall I compare you to a summer's day?
You are lovelier and more constant:
Rough winds shake the beloved buds of May
And summer is far too short:
At times the sun is too hot,
Or often goes behind the clouds;
And everything beautiful sometime will lose its beauty,
By misfortune or by nature's planned out course.
But your youth shall not fade,
Nor will you lose the beauty that you possess;
Nor will death claim you for his own,
Because in my eternal verse you will live forever.
So long as there are people on this earth,
So long will this poem live on, making you immortal.
Shakespeare starts by questioning whether to compare her to a summer’s day. He doesn’t realizing that she is far superior to a summer’s day. He then states the reasons that place her above a beautiful summer’s day. He describes that her traits are moderate, comfortable, and that she has welcoming qualities. The third line suggests that the rugged winds of summer can be disastrous to the buds of flowers. In saying this, he is saying that this woman possesses no such qualities to be harmful. He advances to say that summer is short and limited, while her beauty has no end, no limitations. The poem then takes us into discussion of temperature. He explains to us how the summer is hot, humid, and unbearable. He says that clouds also sometimes diminish the beauty of summer. These qualities are in complete contrast to the glamour and elegance of her. Line 7, which has a very literal meaning, communicates that everything beautiful will at a time lose its beauty. He claims that all beauty tarnishes except that of his lover. In the next line, Shakespeare essentially supports why beauty doesn’t last forever, offering that this happens by misfortune or by nature taking its course. In the next line, which is considered the turning point of the sonnet, he signals that something is changing by using the word, “but.” In the following lines Shakespeare says that her beauty will not change, fade, become lost, or die. Line 11, describes that she will never die, that death will never claim her beauty. The last three lines explain that she will not die, because her beauty will live and grow in his poem for eternity. Shakespeare is saying that as long as there are people on this earth, his poem will live along with her, making her immortal.
Shall I compare thee to(Alliteration) a summer's(Assonance) day?
Thou art more lovely and more(Internal Rhyme) temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds(Assonance) of May,
And summer's lease hath all too(Internal Rhyme) short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion(Internal Rhyme) dimm'd;
And every fair from fair(Alliteration) sometime declines(Assonance),
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall(Alliteration) not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal(Consonance) lines to time thou(Alliteration) growest(Consonance):
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see(Assonance),
So long lives this and this gives(Assonance) life to thee.
Shall I compare you to a summer's day?
You are lovelier and more constant:
Rough winds shake the beloved buds of May
And summer is far too short:
At times the sun is too hot,
Or often goes behind the clouds;
And everything beautiful sometime will lose its beauty,
By misfortune or by nature's planned out course.
But your youth shall not fade,
Nor will you lose the beauty that you possess;
Nor will death claim you for his own,
Because in my eternal verse you will live forever.
So long as there are people on this earth,
So long will this poem live on, making you immortal.
Shakespeare starts by questioning whether to compare her to a summer’s day. He doesn’t realizing that she is far superior to a summer’s day. He then states the reasons that place her above a beautiful summer’s day. He describes that her traits are moderate, comfortable, and that she has welcoming qualities. The third line suggests that the rugged winds of summer can be disastrous to the buds of flowers. In saying this, he is saying that this woman possesses no such qualities to be harmful. He advances to say that summer is short and limited, while her beauty has no end, no limitations. The poem then takes us into discussion of temperature. He explains to us how the summer is hot, humid, and unbearable. He says that clouds also sometimes diminish the beauty of summer. These qualities are in complete contrast to the glamour and elegance of her. Line 7, which has a very literal meaning, communicates that everything beautiful will at a time lose its beauty. He claims that all beauty tarnishes except that of his lover. In the next line, Shakespeare essentially supports why beauty doesn’t last forever, offering that this happens by misfortune or by nature taking its course. In the next line, which is considered the turning point of the sonnet, he signals that something is changing by using the word, “but.” In the following lines Shakespeare says that her beauty will not change, fade, become lost, or die. Line 11, describes that she will never die, that death will never claim her beauty. The last three lines explain that she will not die, because her beauty will live and grow in his poem for eternity. Shakespeare is saying that as long as there are people on this earth, his poem will live along with her, making her immortal.
Shall I compare thee to(Alliteration) a summer's(Assonance) day?
Thou art more lovely and more(Internal Rhyme) temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds(Assonance) of May,
And summer's lease hath all too(Internal Rhyme) short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion(Internal Rhyme) dimm'd;
And every fair from fair(Alliteration) sometime declines(Assonance),
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall(Alliteration) not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal(Consonance) lines to time thou(Alliteration) growest(Consonance):
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see(Assonance),
So long lives this and this gives(Assonance) life to thee.
Charge of the Light Brigade
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!"Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd:Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in air,Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame thro' the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered.Honor the charge they made,Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd:Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in air,Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame thro' the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered.Honor the charge they made,Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Just Over Seven-Hundred Words Describing the Great Life of William Wordsworth
William Wordsworth was born in his hometown of Cockermouth, England on April 7th, 1770. The town is located in Cumberland County in the Lake District, the Northwestern part of England. This area was noticeably less settled than the rest of England. It had many forests, mountains and obviously that Wordsworth could explore. He loved to take hikes and he deeply appreciated the natural beauty that was all around him; His first poem is even titled “An Evening Walk”. He lived in his hometown from his birth to the age of seventeen and from age twenty-nine until his death.
He was the second son of John and Ann Wordsworth. They were a lower-middle class family, who did, however, have the most impressive house in Cockermouth. The house came with Wordsworth’s father’s job as personal lawyer to the unpopular Sir James Lowther, Earl of Lonsdale, who gave the family a bad reputation. Wordsworth’s father made him memorize poems and/or parts of poems at a very young age; he became well accustomed to the complex language of poets such as William Shakespeare and John Milton. This helped him develop an extremely good memory and a keen interest in poetry, which probably heavily influenced his choice to become a writer.
He was enrolled in Hawkshead School at age eight when his mother died from pneumonia, which left John Wordsworth unable to care for five children. The school had a great reputation for making its students well-prepared for university. Wordsworth was educated in mathematics, science, English grammar and composition, the Classical languages, French, and Dancing. He loved the scenic area around the school and often went roaming, tree-climbing, skating, swimming, fishing and hunting with his friends. When he and his best friend went walking they would recite nature poems, sometimes making up their own lines and; though, Wordsworth also enjoyed exploring nature on his own. His father died in 1783 around the same time that Wordsworth had decided that he wanted to be a poet.
He later entered Cambridge University, where his interests had shifted entirely towards languages and writing. One of his uncles, who had some political influence, had made plans to set up a career for him as a clergyman, but Wordsworth did not want to follow in those footsteps. In his second year he wrote his first extensive poem entitled “An Evening Walk”, which reaches nearly four-hundred lines.
He was associated with a small group of free thinkers, including radical philosophers. Wordsworth was a strong follower of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Around the same time, he became very interested in the French Revolution and a French lady named Annette Vallon, who was very different from him politically and personality-wise. Annette gave birth to their first child, Anne Worsworth, but Wordsworth had to leave France when he could no longer support himself financially. He published his first two extensive poems in books, but eared little profit. He did, however, gain the attention of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who became a very close friend whom he would spend a lot of time with. His next major works included two lyrical ballads, or literary ballads; these were initially not well accepted, but are now viewed as breakthroughs in English Poetry. Wordsworth faced a lot of criticism, but was determined to show the world that he was as great a poet as he saw himself to be.
After he had been writing and publishing productively, having created multiple volumes of poetry, he eventually got the recognition that he deserved. He was a very popular poet in the 1820s, when he was in his 50s. Wordsworth had launched a major revolution in poetic style, exemplifying Romantic ideologies and obsoleting Neoclassicism. In 1839, He was given the honorable title of Poet-Laureate of England, even in his less productive old age, in a time when poets of that title were usually expected to productively create poems for public occasions. He lived to be eighty-one years old, dying of Pleurisy in 1850. His last work was a philosophical, autobiographical poem, which he never finished. He is criticized for this and for being, as some critics say, egotistical. Though, it cannot be denied that William Wordsworth was an incredibly influential poet, who defined British Romanticism and was an expert in stirring emotions and describing aesthetically the beauty all around him.
Sources:
Bloom's BioCritiques: William Wordsworth; Bloom's BioCritiques; 2003, p5-52, 48p
Cyclopedia of World Authors, Fourth Revised Edition; January 2003, p1-2
Critical Survey of Poetry, Second Revised Edition; September 2002, p1-12
A Ballad Sent To King Richard - Boza
This is the poem I have chosen by Geoffrey Chaucer.
Sometime this world was so steadfast and stable,
That man's word was held obligation;
And now it is so false and deceivable,
That word and work, as in conclusion,
Be nothing one; for turned up so down
Is all this world, through meed and wilfulness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness.
What makes this world to be so variable,
But lust that folk have in dissension?
For now-a-days a man is held unable
But if he can, by some collusion,
Do his neighbour wrong or oppression.
What causeth this but wilful wretchedness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness?
Truth is put down, reason is holden fable;
Virtue hath now no domination;
Pity exil'd, no wight is merciable;
Through covetise is blent discretion;
The worlde hath made permutation
From right to wrong, from truth to fickleness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness.
L'Envoy.
O Prince! desire to be honourable;
Cherish thy folk, and hate extortion;
Suffer nothing that may be reprovable
To thine estate, done in thy region;
Show forth the sword of castigation;
Dread God, do law, love thorough worthiness,
And wed thy folk again to steadfastness.
Sometime this world was so steadfast and stable,
That man's word was held obligation;
And now it is so false and deceivable,
That word and work, as in conclusion,
Be nothing one; for turned up so down
Is all this world, through meed and wilfulness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness.
What makes this world to be so variable,
But lust that folk have in dissension?
For now-a-days a man is held unable
But if he can, by some collusion,
Do his neighbour wrong or oppression.
What causeth this but wilful wretchedness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness?
Truth is put down, reason is holden fable;
Virtue hath now no domination;
Pity exil'd, no wight is merciable;
Through covetise is blent discretion;
The worlde hath made permutation
From right to wrong, from truth to fickleness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness.
L'Envoy.
O Prince! desire to be honourable;
Cherish thy folk, and hate extortion;
Suffer nothing that may be reprovable
To thine estate, done in thy region;
Show forth the sword of castigation;
Dread God, do law, love thorough worthiness,
And wed thy folk again to steadfastness.
Beauty, Mistress Immortal
The poem that I have chosen out of Ivor Gurney’s vast collection is one of my favorites, titled “Beauty.” This poem describes beauty as an immortal being that can heal what is wrongfully done. The writer is searching for this mystical being throughout the seasons, although every time he is just not quick enough to grasp this immortal concept. This poem demonstrates a vast ray of characteristics that the author has woven into his poetry, such as personification and ending-rhyme. I love this poem as it contributes a greater perspective on what beauty truly is and about those who search for it shall find it eventually.
The original poem for those interested:
Beauty
I cannot live with Beauty out of mind.
I search for her and desire her all the day;
Beauty, the choicest treasure you may find,
Most joyous and sweetest word his lips can say.
The crowded heart in me is quick with visions
And sweetest music born of a brighter day.
But though the trees have long since lost their green
And I, the exile, can but dream of things
Grown magic in the mind; I watch the sheen
Of frost, and hear the song Orion sings.
Yet O, the star-born passion of Beethoven,
Man's consolation sung on the quivering strings.
Beauty immortal, not to be hid, desire
Of all men, each in his fashion, give me the strong
Thirst past satisfaction for thee, and fire
Not to be quenched . . . . O lift me, bear me along,
Touch me, make me worthy that men may seek me
For Beauty, Mistress Immortal, Healer of Wrong
The original poem for those interested:
Beauty
I cannot live with Beauty out of mind.
I search for her and desire her all the day;
Beauty, the choicest treasure you may find,
Most joyous and sweetest word his lips can say.
The crowded heart in me is quick with visions
And sweetest music born of a brighter day.
But though the trees have long since lost their green
And I, the exile, can but dream of things
Grown magic in the mind; I watch the sheen
Of frost, and hear the song Orion sings.
Yet O, the star-born passion of Beethoven,
Man's consolation sung on the quivering strings.
Beauty immortal, not to be hid, desire
Of all men, each in his fashion, give me the strong
Thirst past satisfaction for thee, and fire
Not to be quenched . . . . O lift me, bear me along,
Touch me, make me worthy that men may seek me
For Beauty, Mistress Immortal, Healer of Wrong
The Life Of Ivor Gurney
Ivor Gurney was born on August 28, 1890 in the town of Gloucester. Gloucester is the small town that got its name for the protected shipping port on the River Severn called Glevum. Ivor Gurney was a well educated child growing up, and went to all the most prestigious schools, for his family was moderately wealthy during this time. The school he attended mainly was the school of the King, or the King’s school. Ivor was a very well behaved student and was so advanced in his studies that he won a scholarship to the Royal College of Music in 1911 when he was just twenty-one years of age. At the beginning of his education, although, he suddenly began to suffer from a condition referred to as Dyspepsia, which in today’s society is basically an upset digestion system, or an irritation to the stomach. Physicians, however, chalked up his illness as a nervous breakdown, and sent Mr. Gurney back to his hometown sometime in June of that year. Later, historians believed that that this illness was the first sign of having a bipolar illness, but this theory can’t be proven entirely. If this breakdown had not occurred, then it is believed that he would have had a very successful career as a composer, for he showed a remarkable talent for it. He also was a decent poet at the time, but his work began to flourish soon after his condition, as a result of the oncoming war.
When the First World War first broke out, Ivor Gurney was among the first to volunteer his services for the war by joining the Army. However, after much of the testing that Ivor had to go through had been completed, the Army finally turned Mr. Gurney down for they found out that he had bad eyesight. Although dishearten, Ivor continued his support for the troops. Then as a change of events occurred, the British Army was beginning to lose more men as planned and became short-handed. Ivor was thus allowed to join in the year 1915. He had to complete a rigorous training program before he joined the troops on the field. He was first trained on the Western Front first, and then was transferred to Albert to learn the Offensive of the battle. He turned out to be a very good soldier after completing his training, but as the tables turn as the seem to do, Ivor Gurney was shot on the battlefield on April 7, 1917 and was thus sent to the army hospital in Rouen. He did not take long to recover; in fact, he rejoined his regiment the following month. Ivor did not remain a solider for his entire life and two months after the rejoinment of his regiment, he was transferred to a machine Gun Company in Buysscheure, or Northern France.
Shortly after, an unfortunate event happened short after, which landed Mr. Gurney right back to the hospital in Edinburgh, in Scotland. During his time in the hospital, he began writing war poems including the ones titled, Severn and Somme, which soon appeared in newspapers nationwide. Ivor Gurney’s name became famous because of his writings, furthering the support of the war until it had ended in 1918. After the war, however, Mr. Gurney spent most of his time in different hospitals for the accident that had happened to him during his duration at the Gun Company, where he was gassed, so his lungs where never the same after the incident. Gurney was finally discharged from hospital and the army on 4th October 1918. Ivor Gurney wrote quite a few poetry books that contained his most prized work, although he couldn’t completely live off of his work. His second book of poems was titled War’s Embers which was published in May 1919. Aside from writing his poems, he was a farm laborer, a piano player in a cinema, and much, much more.
Sadly, Ivor Gurney's mental state was never the same, and after several attempts at suicide he was committed to a mental asylum back in his hometown in Gloucester. Shortly after his admittance to the physic ward, Ivor Gurney was legally declared insane on September 28, 1922, and was moved to the mental hospital in Dartford. Here, he continued his writings and shortly after, his work was published in the London Mercury.
Ivor Gurney died of bilateral pulmonary tuberculosis at the City of London Mental Hospital on 26th December, 1937. Five days later he was buried at Twigworth, Gloucestershire.
http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/FWWgurney.htm
When the First World War first broke out, Ivor Gurney was among the first to volunteer his services for the war by joining the Army. However, after much of the testing that Ivor had to go through had been completed, the Army finally turned Mr. Gurney down for they found out that he had bad eyesight. Although dishearten, Ivor continued his support for the troops. Then as a change of events occurred, the British Army was beginning to lose more men as planned and became short-handed. Ivor was thus allowed to join in the year 1915. He had to complete a rigorous training program before he joined the troops on the field. He was first trained on the Western Front first, and then was transferred to Albert to learn the Offensive of the battle. He turned out to be a very good soldier after completing his training, but as the tables turn as the seem to do, Ivor Gurney was shot on the battlefield on April 7, 1917 and was thus sent to the army hospital in Rouen. He did not take long to recover; in fact, he rejoined his regiment the following month. Ivor did not remain a solider for his entire life and two months after the rejoinment of his regiment, he was transferred to a machine Gun Company in Buysscheure, or Northern France.
Shortly after, an unfortunate event happened short after, which landed Mr. Gurney right back to the hospital in Edinburgh, in Scotland. During his time in the hospital, he began writing war poems including the ones titled, Severn and Somme, which soon appeared in newspapers nationwide. Ivor Gurney’s name became famous because of his writings, furthering the support of the war until it had ended in 1918. After the war, however, Mr. Gurney spent most of his time in different hospitals for the accident that had happened to him during his duration at the Gun Company, where he was gassed, so his lungs where never the same after the incident. Gurney was finally discharged from hospital and the army on 4th October 1918. Ivor Gurney wrote quite a few poetry books that contained his most prized work, although he couldn’t completely live off of his work. His second book of poems was titled War’s Embers which was published in May 1919. Aside from writing his poems, he was a farm laborer, a piano player in a cinema, and much, much more.
Sadly, Ivor Gurney's mental state was never the same, and after several attempts at suicide he was committed to a mental asylum back in his hometown in Gloucester. Shortly after his admittance to the physic ward, Ivor Gurney was legally declared insane on September 28, 1922, and was moved to the mental hospital in Dartford. Here, he continued his writings and shortly after, his work was published in the London Mercury.
Ivor Gurney died of bilateral pulmonary tuberculosis at the City of London Mental Hospital on 26th December, 1937. Five days later he was buried at Twigworth, Gloucestershire.
http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/FWWgurney.htm
charge of the light birgade
1.
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!"Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd:Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
3.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
4.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in air,Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.
5.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame thro' the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
6.
When can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered.Honor the charge they made,Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred.
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!"Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd:Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
3.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
4.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in air,Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.
5.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame thro' the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
6.
When can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered.Honor the charge they made,Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred.
Citing your sources
Heads up bloggers! As you are posting the biographies of your poets, please remember that you need to be including the sources that you are using to gather your information. You can do this at the bottom of your post, or as a comment. Also make note of the fact that you were given direction to use only valid academic sources for this assignment. I have included the instructions below. Please go back and make adjustments as necessary. Thanks!
G. Lehmann
Your primary research tool...
is the Galileo Literary Reference Center.
G. Lehmann
Your primary research tool...
is the Galileo Literary Reference Center.
"Moving Back" from Out of Africa (1944)
We are going back again
To the mud and the rain
Where the guns complain
And the stones stain.
We are leaving the mountain snow.
Once more it is our turn to go
Back to the advanced foe.
It is just we know . . .
We are going back again
To our comrades' graves on the plain,
To the graves sunk in the rain
We do not complain.
We do not complain.
We say nothing: but think only
(Heart-constricted, a moment lonely):
"Who will be killed this time
And for what crime?"
-John Gawsworth
At the Window- D. H. Lawrence
At the Window
The pine-trees bend to listen to the Autumn wind as it mutters
Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter;
While slowly the house of day is closing its eastern shutters.
Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede,
Winding about their dimness the mist's grey cerements, after
The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed.
The leaves fly over the window and utter a word as they pass
To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes
That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass.
The pine-trees bend to listen to the Autumn wind as it mutters
Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter;
While slowly the house of day is closing its eastern shutters.
Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede,
Winding about their dimness the mist's grey cerements, after
The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed.
The leaves fly over the window and utter a word as they pass
To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes
That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass.
Imagine
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 no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
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 live as one
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 no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
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 live as one
John Lennon
The Beatles are arguably one of the greatest bands to have ever existed. Their music lives on and their influences can still be seen to this day. One of the cofounders of The Beatles was the late John Lennon. He played guitar, sang, and wrote many songs for the band.
John Lennon was born on October 9, 1940 in Liverpool, England. At age five, Lennon was separated from his parents after they refused to raise him, and was forced to live with his strict Aunt, Mimi Smith. As a teenager, he had developed a lot of anger in the wake of his circumstances, but he turned that anger into brilliance. At 16, he founded a band that would eventually evolve into The Beatles.
The Beatles was mainly a joint project between Lennon and Paul McCartney, with both bringing their own musical styles. McCartney had more of a pop style, while Lennon offered a more rebellious rock-and-roll style. Lennon and McCartney both shared their interest in American rock-and-roll and first played together in 1957. With the addition of George Harrison and Ringo Starr, the Beatles were formed and music was revolutionized. Their variety and styles of music, as well as the meanings that it held, made them extremely popular. Much of this style can be accredited to Lennon.
At age 21, Lennon married Cynthia Powell; however, they divorced in 1968. When he was 28, he then married Yoko Ono, a Japanese artist. By 1970, the Beatles formally broke up. Lennon and McCartney began fighting and had many personal disagreements. All of this was elevated by the stress of trying to help symbolize a generation. The band then separated, with each member going off on their own. McCartney went on to form a new band, which was fairly successful. Starr and Harrison also had somewhat successful careers as solo artists. Lennon produced a set of songs with his wife, Ono.
As Lennon began his detachment from the Beatles, he became closer to Ono, as he was very fascinated with her. He continued to make music, with much of it influenced by his political beliefs, especially his disapproval of the Vietnam War. He also expressed a lot of political commitment to feminism. At that time, his music and his writing was clearly showing his opposition to the Vietnam War and President Nixon. Nixon and his administration even attempted to deport him for his opposition to the war. Amidst all of this controversy, Ono left him.
The next period of his life was called the “long weekend.” After Ono left him, he went through a year of heavy drinking and making irregular music in Los Angeles. This period ended when Ono came back, and they soon had a son, Sean, on Lennon’s birthday in 1975. He then left music in order to focus on being a househusband, leaving Ono to handle the business matters. John Lennon’s life ended on December 8, 1980 when he was shot by a psychotic fan outside of his Manhattan apartment building. Lennon might be dead, but his voice is still alive and well.
Works Cited:
"Lennon, John" Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopædia Britannica Online School Edition.
Encyclopædia Britannica, 2011. Web. 26 Apr. 2011.<http://school.eb.com/eb/article-9438280>.
James E., Miller. "Beatles, the." Britannica Biographies (2010): 1. History Reference Center.
EBSCO. Web. 26 Apr. 2011.
Robert, Christgau. "Lennon, John." Britannica Biographies (2010): 1. History Reference Center.
EBSCO. Web. 26 Apr. 2011.
John Lennon was born on October 9, 1940 in Liverpool, England. At age five, Lennon was separated from his parents after they refused to raise him, and was forced to live with his strict Aunt, Mimi Smith. As a teenager, he had developed a lot of anger in the wake of his circumstances, but he turned that anger into brilliance. At 16, he founded a band that would eventually evolve into The Beatles.
The Beatles was mainly a joint project between Lennon and Paul McCartney, with both bringing their own musical styles. McCartney had more of a pop style, while Lennon offered a more rebellious rock-and-roll style. Lennon and McCartney both shared their interest in American rock-and-roll and first played together in 1957. With the addition of George Harrison and Ringo Starr, the Beatles were formed and music was revolutionized. Their variety and styles of music, as well as the meanings that it held, made them extremely popular. Much of this style can be accredited to Lennon.
At age 21, Lennon married Cynthia Powell; however, they divorced in 1968. When he was 28, he then married Yoko Ono, a Japanese artist. By 1970, the Beatles formally broke up. Lennon and McCartney began fighting and had many personal disagreements. All of this was elevated by the stress of trying to help symbolize a generation. The band then separated, with each member going off on their own. McCartney went on to form a new band, which was fairly successful. Starr and Harrison also had somewhat successful careers as solo artists. Lennon produced a set of songs with his wife, Ono.
As Lennon began his detachment from the Beatles, he became closer to Ono, as he was very fascinated with her. He continued to make music, with much of it influenced by his political beliefs, especially his disapproval of the Vietnam War. He also expressed a lot of political commitment to feminism. At that time, his music and his writing was clearly showing his opposition to the Vietnam War and President Nixon. Nixon and his administration even attempted to deport him for his opposition to the war. Amidst all of this controversy, Ono left him.
The next period of his life was called the “long weekend.” After Ono left him, he went through a year of heavy drinking and making irregular music in Los Angeles. This period ended when Ono came back, and they soon had a son, Sean, on Lennon’s birthday in 1975. He then left music in order to focus on being a househusband, leaving Ono to handle the business matters. John Lennon’s life ended on December 8, 1980 when he was shot by a psychotic fan outside of his Manhattan apartment building. Lennon might be dead, but his voice is still alive and well.
Works Cited:
"Lennon, John" Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopædia Britannica Online School Edition.
Encyclopædia Britannica, 2011. Web. 26 Apr. 2011.<http://school.eb.com/eb/article-9438280>.
James E., Miller. "Beatles, the." Britannica Biographies (2010): 1. History Reference Center.
EBSCO. Web. 26 Apr. 2011.
Robert, Christgau. "Lennon, John." Britannica Biographies (2010): 1. History Reference Center.
EBSCO. Web. 26 Apr. 2011.
The Divine Image
The poem I chose was “The Divine Image” by William Blake. This poem is written with religious beliefs of God and his vision the divine image. He wrote many poems of love, religion, and rebellion but this poem caught my attention by the title. I wanted to know what William Blake’s divine image was.
The Divine Image
By: William Blake (1757-1827)
To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and LoveIs man,
His child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace.
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172912
The Divine Image
By: William Blake (1757-1827)
To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love
Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace and LoveIs man,
His child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace.
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172912
Alfred, Lord Tennyson Biogrpahy
My original post was filled with inaccurate information, sorry about that. I also learned some things that our generation may find amusing may not be shared with the previous generations. Sorry for the problems. But it is what it is. It's real life. –Mike O’Real
Alfred, Lord Tennyson was poet laureate of the United Kingdom. A poet laureate is a poet assigned by the government to write poems for certain occasions. In Britain the poet laureate is the official poet of the King of Queen. He also wrote many poems, some that were received in high regard. He wrote such poems as The Charge of the Light Brigade, Tears, Idle Tears, Break, Break, Break, among others.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson was born on August 5, 1809 in England. His parents were George Clayton Tennyson and Elizabeth Fytche Tennyson. His father was a reverend. Tennyson’s given name was simply Alfred Tennyson. He was later given the title Lord later on in his life.
Alfred began writing poetry at the age of 8, by age 14 he had written a play. In 1827, Tennyson entered Cambridge University; upon his enrollment he befriended many other peers such as Edward FitzGerald and Arthur Henry Hallam. Tennyson was shocked when Hallam suddenly died in 1833 due to an Apoplexy. An Apoplexy is a type of stroke, which leads to bleeding in the brain.
Tennyson was devastated, that same year he began work on one of his better known books, In Memoriam: A.H.H., dedicated to his friend who passed away. Tennyson later named his son after Arthur, Hallam Tennyson was born in 1852.
In 1830, Tennyson met Emily Sellwood. They fell in love, were engaged in 1839 and were married in 1850. It took twenty years for them to marry because, Emily’s father was upset that Alfred’s opium addicted brother was courting his other daughter. When the married they married in secrecy. During the time Alfred and Emily were separated he traveled the world and devoted his time to writing poetry. He spoke many different languages, including Persian and Hebrew. Two of his children were born in the 1850’s. Hallam in 1852 and Lionel in 1852.
In 1842, Tennyson was a famous poet. He became famous after the publication of his works, Poems. That same year doctors told Alfred that he was in bad health and to put a hold on his work for a while. This recess lasted 2 years, at some point Alfred was not even allowed to read.
Around 1850, after several of his works were published, including The Princess, the United Kingdom was looking for a new Poet Laureate. William Wordsworth had just died so the role was vacated. Several men turned down the role, including Samuel Rogers, who was reallllyyy old at the time. Like 87! After Prince Albert read his work, In Memoriam, he offered the role to Tennyson, he accepted gladly. Tennyson cherished his new role as Poet Laureate, but didn’t care for the attention he attracted from complete strangers.
After Several years on the job as Poet Laureate, the Queen habitually offered Alfred the offer of being knighted and becoming Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Tennyson was shy and declined the offer. It wasn’t until 1884 that Tennyson accepted the Queen’s offer. For the rest of his life he was known as Alfred, Lord Tennyson, or Lord Tennyson. This is a tremendous honor in the United Kingdom.
In the 1870’s Alfred’s health, along with Emily’s began to fail. His work slowed down. He feared f he started something his health wouldn’t allow him to finish it. Due to his bad eye sight, Emily would write down Alfred’s poems. She did this until she became in bad health and his son, Hallam took over. Tennyson suffered a major blow in 1886, when his son Lionel died at sea due to a fever. Tennyson continued his writing slowly during these times. In 1889, Hallam’s first son was born, he named him Lionel. He had another child shortly thereafter in 1891. His name was Alfred Tennyson, Jr. on October 6, 1892, Alfred’s life ended, when he died. It was thought he may have died of gout. His wife and son were by his side when he took his final breath. He was buried in the Poet’s corner of Westminster Abbey.
Tennyson is still regarded to this day as one of the elite poets of all time. Many of his works are still popular today. He definitely set the tone for future writers.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson was poet laureate of the United Kingdom. A poet laureate is a poet assigned by the government to write poems for certain occasions. In Britain the poet laureate is the official poet of the King of Queen. He also wrote many poems, some that were received in high regard. He wrote such poems as The Charge of the Light Brigade, Tears, Idle Tears, Break, Break, Break, among others.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson was born on August 5, 1809 in England. His parents were George Clayton Tennyson and Elizabeth Fytche Tennyson. His father was a reverend. Tennyson’s given name was simply Alfred Tennyson. He was later given the title Lord later on in his life.
Alfred began writing poetry at the age of 8, by age 14 he had written a play. In 1827, Tennyson entered Cambridge University; upon his enrollment he befriended many other peers such as Edward FitzGerald and Arthur Henry Hallam. Tennyson was shocked when Hallam suddenly died in 1833 due to an Apoplexy. An Apoplexy is a type of stroke, which leads to bleeding in the brain.
Tennyson was devastated, that same year he began work on one of his better known books, In Memoriam: A.H.H., dedicated to his friend who passed away. Tennyson later named his son after Arthur, Hallam Tennyson was born in 1852.
In 1830, Tennyson met Emily Sellwood. They fell in love, were engaged in 1839 and were married in 1850. It took twenty years for them to marry because, Emily’s father was upset that Alfred’s opium addicted brother was courting his other daughter. When the married they married in secrecy. During the time Alfred and Emily were separated he traveled the world and devoted his time to writing poetry. He spoke many different languages, including Persian and Hebrew. Two of his children were born in the 1850’s. Hallam in 1852 and Lionel in 1852.
In 1842, Tennyson was a famous poet. He became famous after the publication of his works, Poems. That same year doctors told Alfred that he was in bad health and to put a hold on his work for a while. This recess lasted 2 years, at some point Alfred was not even allowed to read.
Around 1850, after several of his works were published, including The Princess, the United Kingdom was looking for a new Poet Laureate. William Wordsworth had just died so the role was vacated. Several men turned down the role, including Samuel Rogers, who was reallllyyy old at the time. Like 87! After Prince Albert read his work, In Memoriam, he offered the role to Tennyson, he accepted gladly. Tennyson cherished his new role as Poet Laureate, but didn’t care for the attention he attracted from complete strangers.
After Several years on the job as Poet Laureate, the Queen habitually offered Alfred the offer of being knighted and becoming Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Tennyson was shy and declined the offer. It wasn’t until 1884 that Tennyson accepted the Queen’s offer. For the rest of his life he was known as Alfred, Lord Tennyson, or Lord Tennyson. This is a tremendous honor in the United Kingdom.
In the 1870’s Alfred’s health, along with Emily’s began to fail. His work slowed down. He feared f he started something his health wouldn’t allow him to finish it. Due to his bad eye sight, Emily would write down Alfred’s poems. She did this until she became in bad health and his son, Hallam took over. Tennyson suffered a major blow in 1886, when his son Lionel died at sea due to a fever. Tennyson continued his writing slowly during these times. In 1889, Hallam’s first son was born, he named him Lionel. He had another child shortly thereafter in 1891. His name was Alfred Tennyson, Jr. on October 6, 1892, Alfred’s life ended, when he died. It was thought he may have died of gout. His wife and son were by his side when he took his final breath. He was buried in the Poet’s corner of Westminster Abbey.
Tennyson is still regarded to this day as one of the elite poets of all time. Many of his works are still popular today. He definitely set the tone for future writers.
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