So speaks experience, sage and hoary; I see it plainly, know it well, Like one who, having read a story, Each incident therein can tell. Pale with the secret war of feeling, Sustained with courage, mute, yet high; The wounds at which she bled, revealing Only by altered cheek and eye; She bore in silencebut when passion Surged in her soul with ceaseless foam, The storm at last brought desolation, And drove her exiled from her home. Port manteaux churns out silly new words when you feed it an idea or two enter a word or two above and youll get back a bunch of portmanteaux created by jamming together words that are conceptually related to your inputs for example enter giraffe and youll get back words like gazellephant and gorilldebeest. And she too loved the twilight wood, And often, in her mother's mood, Away to yonder hill would hie, Like her, to watch the setting sun, Or see the stars born, one by one, Out of the darkening sky. She will return, but cold and altered, Like all whose hopes too soon depart; Like all on whom have beat, unsheltered, The bitter blasts that blight the heart. I've come, to close the window, hither, At twilight, when the sun was down, And Fear, my very soul would wither, Lest something should be dimly shown. Unscared, the daw, and starling nestle, Where the tall turret rises high, And winds alone come near to rustle The thick leaves where their cradles lie.
In his past, he found himself happy with his wife by his side. Fain would I know if, henceforth, ever, These eyes shall read in hers again, That light of love which faded never, Though dimmed so long with secret pain. Before she married, she was blest Blest in her youth, blest in her worth; Her mind was calm, its sunny rest Shone in her eyes more clear than mirth. He or she is in an uncomfortable bed. Birds sing their concert d. I, who sat by his wife's death-bed, I, who his daughter loved, Could almost curse the guilty dead, For woes, the guiltless proved.
This poem is a brief concert of memories and emotions, with key lilting phrases that build and support, submerge and change. So, if you dudes wanna Czech out some more poetry, view my side-blog: staysquare. Her speech, too, was not common speech, No wish to shine, or aim to teach, Was in her words displayed: She still began with quiet sense, But oft the force of eloquence Came to her lips in aid; Language and voice unconscious changed, And thoughts, in other words arranged, Her fervid soul transfused Into the hearts of those who heard, And transient strength and ardour stirred, In minds to strength unused. I scarcely think, for ten long years, A hand has touched these relics old; And, coating each, slow-formed, appears, The growth of green and antique mould. She will return, but cold and altered, Like all whose hopes too soon depart; Like all on whom have beat, unsheltered, The bitter blasts that blight the heart. Allusion Read the following poem and answer the questions below: 5.
I, who sat by his wife's death-bed, I, who his daughter loved, Could almost curse the guilty dead, For woes, the guiltless proved. To lose them is to lose ourselves. These grim oak walls, even then were grim; That old carved chair, was then antique; But what around looked dusk and dim Served as a foil to her fresh cheek; Her neck, and arms, of hue so fair, Eyes of unclouded, smiling, light; Her soft, and curled, and floating hair, Gems and attire, as rainbow bright. Yet in gay crowd or festal glare, Grave and retiring was her air; 'Twas seldom, save with me alone, That fire of feeling freely shone; She loved not awe's nor wonder's gaze, Nor even exaggerated praise, Nor even notice, if too keen The curious gazer searched her mien. The sun, sometimes in summer, enters The casements, with reviving ray; But the long rains of many winters Moulder the very walls away.
The speaker reminisces about his journey through life with this woman as well as her image. How long does the person in the poem stay awake in bed? Readers, they speak of the British Empire. You ask if she had beauty's grace? Consequently, the worldwide perception of warfare was changed. It is more than clear that this love did not end well. He or she is not tired. Out on the lawn, or where the trees Let in the lustre fitfully, As their boughs parted momently, To the soft, languid, summer breeze.
I've seen that by her daughter worn: For, e'er she died, a child was born; A child that ne'er its mother knew, That lone, and almost friendless grew; For, ever, when its step drew nigh, Averted was the father's eye; And then, a life impure and wild Made him a stranger to his child; Absorbed in vice, he little cared On what she did, or how she fared. How still the lonely room appears! World wars hold immense significance, namely because the entire globe was involved. He or she is worried about school. And silent still, she straight assembled The wrecks of strength her soul retained; For though the wasted body trembled, The unconquered mind, to quail, disdained. He reacts with horror when among the pieces of his flotsam; he discovers the photograph of his former wife and love. Creating literacy rich schools for adolescents by gay ivey and douglas fisher table of contents chapter 1 reading and writing in english classes.
How still the lonely room appears! This poem asks the reader to separate himself from the past, but in doing so, must acknowledge and, somehow, enjoy its passing. These are pieces of his past, which are useless, yet kept, perhaps in a dusty drawer- long forgotten. More figurative readings are far more subjective; however, I have written my own analysis in the text above. Out on the lawn, or where the trees Let in the lustre fitfully, As their boughs parted momently, To the soft, languid, summer breeze. Presently, he feels pain for his failed marriage, and yet, in his past he was happy to be married.
The love withheld, she never sought, She grew uncherishedlearnt untaught; To her the inward life of thought Full soon was open laid. But bloom or lustre was there none, Only at moments, fitful shone An ardour in her eye, That kindled on her cheek a flush, Warm as a red sky's passing blush And quick with energy. It is the casual, easy manner of speech and the use of these simple details which he expertly contrasts with the vast depth of the human experience that produce the arresting power of this piece. Reclined in yonder deep recess, Ofttimes she would, at evening, lie Watching the sun; she seemed to bless With happy glance the glorious sky. I doubt that the same list would be compiled by those more patriotic than I; however, the point remains: although the British Empire brought the world many horrors, it also brought the world many gifts.