Originally when looking at the title of this passage and reading through the first few lines I thought that it would be about Brooke having multiple affairs with women and ultimately never finding true love. But then about in the middle, I realize that this is not what he is talking about; but it is more about some of the material things that he enjoys in his life—this really took me by surprise.
These I have loved:
White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke wood;
And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is
Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
the benison of hot water; furs to touch;
The good smell of old clothes; and other such—
The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
Hair’s fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
About dead leaves and last year’s ferns… (lines 26-43)
In these lines Brooke is referring to some of the simple things in life that we do not normally notice. I found it really inspiring to “stop and smell the roses.” What I like most about this passage is that he refers to all of his senses as he describes the things that he enjoys; for example, he talks about the smell of clothes, the patterns on the plates, and the feel of blankets on his skin. I enjoyed how he was able to really capture the beauty in things that we see everyday and give new insight into their features. For some reason I love readings that capture the beauty in things that are naturally overlooked in our busy everyday lives. There so many things on this earth that have been created with such perfection and splendor… I admire writers who are able to put them in words on paper in such a way that it causes readers to actually feel, see, or hear everything that they have experienced. I definitely think that Brooke captured it all in this passage.
Monday, June 28, 2010
William Butler Yeats—A Prayer for My Daughter p1123
Of course the first thing that came to my mind when reading this was my dad--that's why I liked it so much. I think that this passage really captures the thoughts and prayers of almost any father who has a young daughter. There was so much beauty and emotion that was put into this writing…and so much truth as well. I found the setting on little weird—they’re out on a sea in the middle of a storm while the child sleeps—but nevertheless, it doesn’t take out any of the tenderness of the prayer.
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle (lines 1-3)
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And hear the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And under the arches of the bridge, and scream (lines7-11)
In the beginning it seems that maybe he has taken his young daughter out to sea with him and they are caught in the middle of a storm and his hear is troubled—perhaps he fears that she would lose her life at such a young age, so he begins to pray that they will make it to safety and she will live out the rest of her life into adulthood.
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught (lines 17-18)
May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound. (lines 41-44)
And may her bridegroom bring her to a house
Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious; (lines73-74)
He wants the best for his daughter—beauty, intelligence, husband, house. Through his words Yeats was able to express the unconditional love and affection that he had for his daughter. He earnestly prayed with great emotion, and this is what made it so touching to me. My dad came to my mind when reading it because he always expresses how he wants the best for me, and tends not to accept anything less than perfect. Fathers and daughters have a unique relationship and Yeats was really able to bring that out in this passage…I can imagine the love that he felt for his daughter…and how much he probably spoiled her.
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle (lines 1-3)
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And hear the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And under the arches of the bridge, and scream (lines7-11)
In the beginning it seems that maybe he has taken his young daughter out to sea with him and they are caught in the middle of a storm and his hear is troubled—perhaps he fears that she would lose her life at such a young age, so he begins to pray that they will make it to safety and she will live out the rest of her life into adulthood.
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught (lines 17-18)
May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound. (lines 41-44)
And may her bridegroom bring her to a house
Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious; (lines73-74)
He wants the best for his daughter—beauty, intelligence, husband, house. Through his words Yeats was able to express the unconditional love and affection that he had for his daughter. He earnestly prayed with great emotion, and this is what made it so touching to me. My dad came to my mind when reading it because he always expresses how he wants the best for me, and tends not to accept anything less than perfect. Fathers and daughters have a unique relationship and Yeats was really able to bring that out in this passage…I can imagine the love that he felt for his daughter…and how much he probably spoiled her.
Isaac Rosenberg—Dead Man’s Dump p1104
This story was really depressing and filled with vivid images. It is describing a scene that is most likely a battleground that has recently been abandoned by the soldiers. A few people are riding on carriages across the field and just observing the many dead bodies in pools of blood laying on the ground around them.
The wheels lurched over sprawled dead
But pained them not, through their bones crunched,
Their shut mouths made no moan
They lie there huddled, friend and foeman,
Man born of man, and born of woman. (lines 7-11)
We heard his weak scream,
We heard his very last sound,
And our wheels grazed his dead face. (lines 84-86)
When I read this, the first thing that came to my mind was not exactly about death in war; but it was more about death in general. It mostly made me think about how we all come together in death and there is no separation that exists as it does now. Throughout this world there are so many ways that people are separated—race, social class, sex, nationality, etc.—and in this narration these soldiers were separated by the country that they were defending. But in the end, men from both sides and probably different nationalities were spread out over the ground over a large area of land. In a way it seems like death brought unity among these men—“friend and foeman” (line 11). What I contemplated most about after reading this was mainly wondering how the human race has become so divided in almost every aspect; and it appears that as time passes, it only gets worse. Maybe I’m being a little optimistic and unrealistic, but I anticipate the day where we do live in unity and not have to wait for death for that to happen.
The wheels lurched over sprawled dead
But pained them not, through their bones crunched,
Their shut mouths made no moan
They lie there huddled, friend and foeman,
Man born of man, and born of woman. (lines 7-11)
We heard his weak scream,
We heard his very last sound,
And our wheels grazed his dead face. (lines 84-86)
When I read this, the first thing that came to my mind was not exactly about death in war; but it was more about death in general. It mostly made me think about how we all come together in death and there is no separation that exists as it does now. Throughout this world there are so many ways that people are separated—race, social class, sex, nationality, etc.—and in this narration these soldiers were separated by the country that they were defending. But in the end, men from both sides and probably different nationalities were spread out over the ground over a large area of land. In a way it seems like death brought unity among these men—“friend and foeman” (line 11). What I contemplated most about after reading this was mainly wondering how the human race has become so divided in almost every aspect; and it appears that as time passes, it only gets worse. Maybe I’m being a little optimistic and unrealistic, but I anticipate the day where we do live in unity and not have to wait for death for that to happen.
Siegfried Sassoon—Glory of Woman p1099
This passage is narrates how women dealt with hard times during World War I. What really attracted me to this passage is that he took the time to honor women for some of the things that are typically overlooked. It’s not often that you hear about the roles that women play, whether on the job or in the family; especially during that particular time. Usually during a war we hear hero stories of soldiers who risk their lives for their country; we hear about their bravery and strength; but instead Sassoon depicts women has being the heroes for what they continued to do back home.
You make us shells. You listen with delight,
By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled. (lines 5-6)
These two lines really showed the sincerity that he felt as he wrote. Here is acknowledging how well they listened to their wartime stories or anything similar. I really admired that this was something that he noticed; something that is typically taken for granted. (What more could a woman want!) I think that maybe it was just the long time spent away from home and loved ones that allowed him to capture the things that were not noticed before. I guess that time away really does make the heart grow fonder…but who knows how long this appreciation lasted after he returned home…
You make us shells. You listen with delight,
By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled. (lines 5-6)
These two lines really showed the sincerity that he felt as he wrote. Here is acknowledging how well they listened to their wartime stories or anything similar. I really admired that this was something that he noticed; something that is typically taken for granted. (What more could a woman want!) I think that maybe it was just the long time spent away from home and loved ones that allowed him to capture the things that were not noticed before. I guess that time away really does make the heart grow fonder…but who knows how long this appreciation lasted after he returned home…
Thomas Hardy—Logs on the Hearth p1078
This passage is a narration about an individual who is remembering sitting in front of a fireplace and enjoying quality time spent with a sister. As I read it, I could imagine myself sitting in front of a fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate during a cold winter’s night. Hardy made is so easy to relate because of the great detail that he described his surrounding—his depiction of the fireplace was really detailed in even the small things that he saw.
The fire advances along the log
Of the tree we felled (lines 1-2)
Where the bark chars is where, one year,
It was pruned, and bled—
Then overgrew the wound. But now, at last,
Its growing all have stagnated. (lines 9-12)
Hardy’s use of words made it really easy to develop a mental image of what he was seeing. I could see the flames of the fire slowing dancing from one end of a log to the other as the fire gets bigger and casting shadows on the wall. It’s a beautiful way that he remembers such a simple time that was spent with a sister. I think that it really shows how it is the little moments that count the most in life. Instead of remembering an expensive vacation or something similar; he thought of a moment that most people tend to take for granted. That’s what I admired most about it.
The fire advances along the log
Of the tree we felled (lines 1-2)
Where the bark chars is where, one year,
It was pruned, and bled—
Then overgrew the wound. But now, at last,
Its growing all have stagnated. (lines 9-12)
Hardy’s use of words made it really easy to develop a mental image of what he was seeing. I could see the flames of the fire slowing dancing from one end of a log to the other as the fire gets bigger and casting shadows on the wall. It’s a beautiful way that he remembers such a simple time that was spent with a sister. I think that it really shows how it is the little moments that count the most in life. Instead of remembering an expensive vacation or something similar; he thought of a moment that most people tend to take for granted. That’s what I admired most about it.
Thomas Hardy—On the Departure Platform p1075
I really loved this poem because it was so easy for me to relate to as I read it. The passage is basically narrating how someone is seeing their loved one off; someone who will probably be away for a long time. He is standing on a crowded platform, saying his last goodbye—I could definitely relate to the way that he was feeling at that time.
We kissed at the barrier; and passing through
She left me, and moment by moment got
Smaller and smaller, until to my view
She was but a spot; (lines 1-4)
We have penned new plans since that fair fond day,
And in season she will appear again—
Perhaps in the same soft white array—
But never as then! (lines 17-20)
I’ve experienced this before—watching someone close to me leave and standing there until their image is no longer visible. And before they had even left; we started planning what we will do when they return. This seemed to me like the perfect love story in just a few lines. It was really bizarre reading this because it seemed like Hardy was in my head at the moment that I was experiencing that and he wrote down all of my thoughts at that moment and everything that was being seen through my eyes.
We kissed at the barrier; and passing through
She left me, and moment by moment got
Smaller and smaller, until to my view
She was but a spot; (lines 1-4)
We have penned new plans since that fair fond day,
And in season she will appear again—
Perhaps in the same soft white array—
But never as then! (lines 17-20)
I’ve experienced this before—watching someone close to me leave and standing there until their image is no longer visible. And before they had even left; we started planning what we will do when they return. This seemed to me like the perfect love story in just a few lines. It was really bizarre reading this because it seemed like Hardy was in my head at the moment that I was experiencing that and he wrote down all of my thoughts at that moment and everything that was being seen through my eyes.
Gerard Manley Hopkins—I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark, Not Day p778
When first reading this passage I thought that it was about someone who may be in a depressed state. I felt that he was in a mental state where he could not see the good in life—referred to as the “light”— but was continuously in a darkened state of mind. But then the last few lines gave me a second perspective on it:
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse. (lines 13-14)
This made me think of it more as a message to sinners. It seems like a narration of what it would be like for someone who has been doomed to live in hell for eternity. Most people have the image of hell being a place of continuous darkness, where day never seems to come:
“I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! (lines 1-3)
These lines made me think of someone who’s “heart” continuously turns from the way that God wants them to be. I think that the fact that Hopkins was a priest would more support my second interpretation of it being more as a caution to live a righteous life in order to avoid eternity in darkness. This passage really seemed like Hopkins was preaching through his writings without referring to scriptures as is traditionally done; but he was able to make it more realistic to have a bigger impact on its readers.
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse. (lines 13-14)
This made me think of it more as a message to sinners. It seems like a narration of what it would be like for someone who has been doomed to live in hell for eternity. Most people have the image of hell being a place of continuous darkness, where day never seems to come:
“I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! (lines 1-3)
These lines made me think of someone who’s “heart” continuously turns from the way that God wants them to be. I think that the fact that Hopkins was a priest would more support my second interpretation of it being more as a caution to live a righteous life in order to avoid eternity in darkness. This passage really seemed like Hopkins was preaching through his writings without referring to scriptures as is traditionally done; but he was able to make it more realistic to have a bigger impact on its readers.
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