Songs Of Ourselves

'A Different History' - Form ? very loosely formed stanzas; ? stanza ? - Themes ?; importance of ?; link between cultural ? and ? - Bhatt was born in ? in ? so in many ways is writing this poem from her ?. The central ? is that ? cultures are ?, just as books are ?, and just as nature is ?. The poem's ? message seems to be that all ? have at some point been guilty of ? other ?; it is not ? fault, but ? fault. - The poem begins with a reference to the ? Pan - an echo of the famous poetic line (from ?, Barrett ? and others) that 'the great god Pan is dead'. The ? in the first three lines is ?: whilst everyone else is trying to get to ?, this is where ? has gone. Pan - representative of ? - has gone to ?, along with the other ?, 'disguised as snakes or monkeys', or ?: 'every tree is sacred'. She communicates the idea that India is a place that ? things in a way that the ? no longer does, and she uses ? language to ? the way in which these important things are ?: trees are 'sacred' and it is 'a sin/ to be rude to a book'. - The focus on ? is significant here as books are preservers of ? and ?; there is an implication that the ?, ? world is ? longer regarding these things as 'sacred'. She uses a series of ? verbs ('shove', 'slam', 'toss') as well as ? (? of 'a sin to') to communicate this idea. The goddess Sarasvati (Hindu goddess of the arts) dwells in the ? and we should neither 'offend' nor 'disturb' her. - There is a change of ?, mood and ? in the ? stanza, which also becomes more ? structured. The ? becomes ?, aided by two ? (repetition of 'which language') and two ? questions. The point she is making with these ? is that all ? and all ? have, at some point, been the ? one, and that all ? have oppressed others at some point in ?. This is addressing her own ? situation as someone born in ? but with a ? of the 'oppressor's tongue': the ? language, which has now become her ? language. - The third sentence in the final stanza seems to be a ? but, by its end, is a ? rather than a ?. She creates a complex ? to sum up the ? that goes hand in hand with a ? (and its ?) being ? and ? by another: the 'soul' of the oppressed is cut out by 'a long scythe swooping out / of the conqueror's face' - the ? of the ? person is cut out by the oppressor's ?, by his ?. This image, in which the scythe represents the ? which in turn represents ?, is an ? and violent one (linking to the other ? words, 'murder' and 'torture'), yet the poem ends on a ? note: as the 'unborn grandchildren' of the ? 'grow to love that strange language'.

'A Different History' - Form TWO very loosely formed stanzas; SECOND stanza TIGHTER - Themes NATURE; importance of CULTURE; link between cultural IDENTITY and LANGUAGE - Bhatt was born in INDIA in 1956 so in many ways is writing this poem from her EXPERIENCES. The central PREMISE is that INDIVIDUAL cultures are SACRED, just as books are SACRED, and just as nature is SACRED. The poem's POLITICAL message seems to be that all LANGUAGES have at some point been guilty of OVERTAKING other LANGUAGES; it is not LANGUAGE'S fault, but MAN'S fault. - The poem begins with a reference to the GOD Pan - an echo of the famous poetic line (from MILTON, Barrett BROWNING and others) that 'the great god Pan is dead'. The HUMOR in the first three lines is SUBTLE: whilst everyone else is trying to get to INDIA, this is where PAN has gone. Pan - representative of NATURE - has gone to ?INDIA, along with the other GODS, 'disguised as snakes or monkeys', or TREES: 'every tree is sacred'. She communicates the idea that India is a place that VALUES things in a way that the WEST no longer does, and she uses RELIGIOUS language to EMPHASIZE the way in which these important things are VALUED: trees are 'sacred' and it is 'a sin/ to be rude to a book'. - The focus on BOOKS is significant here as books are preservers of CULTURE and LANGUAGE; there is an implication that the MODERNIZED, WESTERN world is NO longer regarding these things as 'sacred'. She uses a series of ROUGH verbs ('shove', 'slam', 'toss') as well as ANAPHORA (REPETITION of 'a sin to') to communicate this idea. The goddess Sarasvati (Hindu goddess of the arts) dwells in the BOOKS and we should neither 'offend' nor 'disturb' her. - There is a change of TONE, mood and FOCUS in the SECOND stanza, which also becomes more TIGHTLY structured. The TONE becomes RHETORICAL, aided by two ANAPHORA (repetition of 'which language') and two RHETORICAL questions. The point she is making with these QUESTIONS is that all CULTURES and all LANGUAGES have, at some point, been the DOMINANT one, and that all CULTURES have oppressed others at some point in HISTORY. This is addressing her own PERSONAL situation as someone born in INDIA but with a LOVE of the 'oppressor's tongue': the ENGLISH language, which has now become her OWN language. - The third sentence in the final stanza seems to be a QUESTION but, by its end, is a STATEMENT rather than a QUESTION. She creates a complex IMAGE to sum up the ?VIOLENCE that goes hand in hand with a CULTURE (and its LANGUAGE) being OPPRESSED and REPLACED by another: the 'soul' of the oppressed is cut out by 'a long scythe swooping out / of the conqueror's face' - the IDENTITY of the OPPRESSED person is cut out by the oppressor's TONGUE, by his LANGUAGE. This image, in which the scythe represents the TONGUE which in turn represents LANGUAGE, is an UNPLEASANT and violent one (linking to the other VIOLENT words, 'murder' and 'torture'), yet the poem ends on a POSITIVE note: as the 'unborn grandchildren' of the OPPRESSED 'grow to love that strange language'.

'Composed upon Westminster Bridge' Form = ? Theme = ? of the city at a moment of ? and calm in the ? Wordsworth, the great ? poet, here chooses to ? something of which he was normally rather ?. It is worth noting that Wordsworth was writing a lot of ? at this particular time, many of them ? in nature and highly ? of ?. This sonnet, therefore, is even more unusual. Lines 1-3 The poem begins by ? a subject — the fairest thing on earth, a sight so 'touching in its majesty' that only a ? person would pass it unnoticed. In these lines the speaker is discussing a subject he has yet to ?. The technique builds ?, and increases our surprise when, in the following line, the subject is named: Wordsworth is best known as a '? poet', so his glorification of the ? is also a little surprising because of his belief that the ? destroys many of the good qualities of ?: ?, kindness, and a sense of the ?. Lines 4-5 The simile here is engaging for at least two reasons: one, we do not normally think of cities as wearing anything, so the idea of the city dressed up in 'the beauty of the morning' is ? and ?. The second reason it is interesting is because of what it implies: a garment can be ? ? and ? ?. The city (something normally not praised by Wordsworth) is beautiful because it is wearing 'the beauty of the morning'. This implies that once ? passes, the 'garment' will be removed and the city will be once again ? and ? (the opposite of 'silent' and 'bare'): the word 'now' suggests that it is only this precise moment that is beautiful. Lines 6-8 In the ? century, from certain places in ?, one could see the fields and low hills which surrounded the city since it wasn't as built up as it is now. Wordsworth lists what he sees, using the more ? word 'temple' instead of 'church' to give the city an even more majestic quality. The fact that he makes the city-scape merge into the natural landscape ('fields', 'sky') is significant. In the nineteenth century, homes and businesses were heated by wood and coal; consequently a great cloud of smoke hung over the city almost continually. The absence of smoke is due to the season (the poem was written in late ?, when rooms do not require heating) and the time of ? (early morning, when no factories or furnaces have started up yet). This is really crucial to understanding this poem: the ? of the city is reserved for this ?, ? moment - which makes its beauty even more powerful, because it is fleeting. Lines 9-10 Wordsworth is aware that he is using a ?, a ? and a sense of ? usually reserved for descriptions of spectacular natural scenes: waterfalls and mountain vistas. He compares this cityscape directly to them and finds it superior. This is very unusual for Wordsworth. Line 11 As the sun illuminates the landscape, so the landscape illuminates (or supplies a calm to) the poet; he sees the 'calm' of the city, and he feels a 'calm' within himself. By making the same word ('calm') the object of both verbs ('saw,' and 'felt'), Wordsworth connects his ? to the feelings of the ?. It's worth noting the absolute language here: 'Ne'er saw I, never felt', which links back to the 'never' in line 9 as well as the 'not anything' in line 1. Line 12 This line is significant because it describes the only movement in the poem. And the river's movement is a 'glide' - a very gentle and smooth movement. One imagines the river's surface so smooth that we can't be certain it is moving at all. The entirety of the poem portrays a ? moment in time, an extended image, a kind of snapshot. Line 14 The 'mighty heart' means the rhythms of the city when its citizens are active. But the term recalls Wordsworth's idea of a single spirit that imbues everything that lives - a 'world spirit' or an animus mundi. The significance here may be that Wordsworth, who in many works regards the city as separate from nature, has here embraced it as part of ?. At alternative reading suggests that the beauty of the city is only possible because it's 'mighty heart' (the people and their polluting activities) it lying still. The exclamation mark at the poem's end (and there are two others in the final four lines of the poem) suggests his awe and surprise at this moment of beauty, which further emphasises how ? this moment must be.

'Composed upon Westminster Bridge' Form Sonnet Theme Beauty of the city at a moment of silence and calm in the morning Wordsworth, the great nature poet, here chooses to glorify something of which he was normally rather critical. It is worth noting that Wordsworth was writing a lot of sonnets at this particular time, many of them political in nature and highly critical of England. This sonnet, therefore, is even more unusual. Lines 1-3 The poem begins by praising a subject — the fairest thing on earth, a sight so 'touching in its majesty' that only a soulless person would pass it unnoticed. In these lines the speaker is discussing a subject he has yet to identify. The technique builds suspense, and increases our surprise when, in the following line, the subject is named: Wordsworth is best known as a 'nature poet', so his glorification of the city is also a little surprising because of his belief that the city destroys many of the good qualities of humanity: sympathy, kindness, and a sense of the sublime. Lines 4-5 The simile here is engaging for at least two reasons: one, we do not normally think of cities as wearing anything, so the idea of the city dressed up in 'the beauty of the morning' is unusual and vivid. The second reason it is interesting is because of what it implies: a garment can be put on and taken off. The city (something normally not praised by Wordsworth) is beautiful because it is wearing 'the beauty of the morning'. This implies that once morning passes, the 'garment' will be removed and the city will be once again noisy and dirty (the opposite of 'silent' and 'bare'): the word 'now' suggests that it is only this precise moment that is beautiful. Lines 6-8 In the nineteenth century, from certain places in London, one could see the fields and low hills which surrounded the city since it wasn't as built up as it is now. Wordsworth lists what he sees, using the more archaic word 'temple' instead of 'church' to give the city an even more majestic quality. The fact that he makes the city-scape merge into the natural landscape ('fields', 'sky') is significant. In the nineteenth century, homes and businesses were heated by wood and coal; consequently a great cloud of smoke hung over the city almost continually. The absence of smoke is due to the season (the poem was written in late summer, when rooms do not require heating) and the time of day (early morning, when no factories or furnaces have started up yet). This is really crucial to understanding this poem: the beauty of the city is reserved for this tiny, brief moment - which makes its beauty even more powerful, because it is fleeting. Lines 9-10 Wordsworth is aware that he is using a tone, a vocabulary and a sense of reverence usually reserved for descriptions of spectacular natural scenes: waterfalls and mountain vistas. He compares this cityscape directly to them and finds it superior. This is very unusual for Wordsworth. Line 11 As the sun illuminates the landscape, so the landscape illuminates (or supplies a calm to) the poet; he sees the 'calm' of the city, and he feels a 'calm' within himself. By making the same word ('calm') the object of both verbs ('saw,' and 'felt'), Wordsworth connects his feeling to the feelings of the city. It's worth noting the absolute language here: 'Ne'er saw I, never felt', which links back to the 'never' in line 9 as well as the 'not anything' in line 1. Line 12 This line is significant because it describes the only movement in the poem. And the river's movement is a 'glide' - a very gentle and smooth movement. One imagines the river's surface so smooth that we can't be certain it is moving at all. The entirety of the poem portrays a frozen moment in time, an extended image, a kind of snapshot. Line 14 The 'mighty heart' means the rhythms of the city when its citizens are active. But the term recalls Wordsworth's idea of a single spirit that imbues everything that lives - a 'world spirit' or an animus mundi. The significance here may be that Wordsworth, who in many works regards the city as separate from nature, has here embraced it as part of nature. At alternative reading suggests that the beauty of the city is only possible because it's 'mighty heart' (the people and their polluting activities) it lying still. The exclamation mark at the poem's end (and there are two others in the final four lines of the poem) suggests his awe and surprise at this moment of beauty, which further emphasises how exceptional this moment must be.

'Continuum' Form = seven ?; line ? in each is much ? than the others Themes = the ? of writing/creative ?; ?; ?; ? Allen Curnow was a poet from ? ? who ? in 2001. His poems are said to 'explore the ? and ?', which this poem certainly does. The ? of the poem is significant, as it suggests something that is ?, ? and ongoing. The ? of the poem actually supports this, as the heavy use of ? and ? ensure that the sentences run across ?. There are only three ?-? stanzas and when Curnow chooses to end a sentence at the end of a ?, or even at the end of a ?, it is done for a clear ?. The poem begins with his ? and ? view of the world: 'I am talking about myself' he succinctly states. The image of the ? rolling 'over the roof' and falling 'behind my house' is of course a purely ? one: hence his ? that the moon 'does neither of these things'. Nor of course is he suggesting that he is the ? rolling over the roof and falling behind his house: when he says 'I am talking about myself' he means he is talking about his ? and ? view of the ? sky. The ? stanza reveals the poet's ? ('It's not possible to get off to sleep') and the fact that he is kept ? by ? something ('or/ the subject') and that he actually longs for some sort of ? ('or off the planet'). He ? himself by also claiming that it's not possible 'to think thoughts' and in this ? we see the ? of his ?. His ? outside to look at the night sky forms the focus of the next ? stanzas, and, like the ? stanza, we are again given his ? and ? view of the night sky, which he sees as a 'washed-out creation' and 'a dark place' (hardly a ? description). He focuses on two 'particular // bright clouds', which become ? to him. It is in this description of the ? that we learn that the poem is very much about the ? of writing ?, about how to ? things, about how to ? one's ? vision of the world. The ? comment ('query') that follows his choice of the word 'dusted' to describe how the light of the moon hits the clouds is a ? exposure of the writer's ?, and also suggests his ? about his ? choice; he is not sure if 'dusted' is the right ?. His ? in his own ? powers dwindles as the stanza continues, as his ? depiction of the ? as ? of himself and 'an adversary' falls apart: 'which may depend / on the wind, or something'. The 'or something', which is followed by a significant ?-? (an end-stopped line; an end-stopped stanza) ? his creative and artistic ?. The ?-? stanza gives us a ?, which is picked up in the next stanza, 'A long moment stretches'. There is a sense here of ? moving ?, and of the poet being somehow ? by this 'the next one is not / on time.' His discomfort is made ?, as the 'chill of / the planking underfoot rises // in the throat'. The description of the 'the night sky [emptying] / the whole of its contents down' can be read in two ways, at least: first, we can read it ? as meaning it starts to pour with ?; second, we can read the night sky as being a participant in this ?, poetic ?: if the night sky 'for its part' is able to empty 'the whole of its contents down' it is as if the night sky is more ? of the two, which only serves to ? again the poet's ? to put down on paper the whole of his ?. At this moment the poet/speaker distances himself from himself and views himself as a ?, the 'author, cringing demiurge', who picks up his 'litter' (paper, crumpled up probably) and his 'tools' (pen/paper) and goes inside back to bed. The fact that he sees himself as a 'cringing demiurge' is significant, as he is a ? ?, ? perhaps in his ?.

'Continuum' Form seven TERCETS; line THREE in each is much shorter than the others Themes the difficulties of writing/creative process; nature; night; subjectivity Allen Curnow was a poet from New Zealand who died in 2001. His poems are said to 'explore the private and unanswerable', which this poem certainly does. The title of the poem is significant, as it suggests something that is continuous, interconnected and ongoing. The structure of the poem actually supports this, as the heavy use of enjambment and caesura ensure that the sentences run across stanzas. There are only three end-stopped stanzas and when Curnow chooses to end a sentence at the end of a stanza, or even at the end of a line, it is done for a clear reason. The poem begins with his subjective and creative view of the world: 'I am talking about myself' he succinctly states. The image of the moon rolling 'over the roof' and falling 'behind my house' is of course a purely artistic one: hence his qualification that the moon 'does neither of these things'. Nor of course is he suggesting that he is the one rolling over the roof and falling behind his house: when he says 'I am talking about myself' he means he is talking about his subjective and creative view of the night sky. The second stanza reveals the poet's anxiety ('It's not possible to get off to sleep') and the fact that he is kept awake by overthinking something ('or/ the subject') and that he actually longs for some sort of escape ('or off the planet'). He contradicts himself by also claiming that it's not possible 'to think thoughts' and in this contradiction we see the extent of his anxiety. His movement outside to look at the night sky forms the focus of the next two stanzas, and, like the first stanza, we are again given his subjective and creative view of the night sky, which he sees as a 'washed-out creation' and 'a dark place' (hardly a positive description). He focuses on two 'particular // bright clouds', which become significant to him. It is in this description of the clouds that we learn that the poem is very much about the act of writing poetry, about how to describe things, about how to communicate one's subjective vision of the world. The bracketed comment ('query') that follows his choice of the word 'dusted' to describe how the light of the moon hits the clouds is a deliberate exposure of the writer's process, and also suggests his anxiety about his word choice; he is not sure if 'dusted' is the right word. His faith in his own poetic powers dwindles as the stanza continues, as his imaginative depiction of the clouds as representative of himself and 'an adversary' falls apart: 'which may depend / on the wind, or something'. The 'or something', which is followed by a significant full-stop (an end-stopped line; an end-stopped stanza) dramatises his creative and artistic failure. The end-stopped stanza gives us a pause, which is picked up in the next stanza, 'A long moment stretches'. There is a sense here of time moving indiscriminatingly, and of the poet being somehow frustrated by this 'the next one is not / on time.' His discomfort is made physical, as the 'chill of / the planking underfoot rises // in the throat'. The description of the 'the night sky [emptying] / the whole of its contents down' can be read in two ways, at least: first, we can read it literally as meaning it starts to pour with rain; second, we can read the night sky as being a participant in this creative, poetic endeavour: if the night sky 'for its part' is able to empty 'the whole of its contents down' it is as if the night sky is more successful of the two, which only serves to emphasise again the poet's inability to put down on paper the whole of his ideas. At this moment the poet/speaker distances himself from himself and views himself as a character, the 'author, cringing demiurge', who picks up his 'litter' (paper, crumpled up probably) and his 'tools' (pen/paper) and goes inside back to bed. The fact that he sees himself as a 'cringing demiurge' is significant, as he is a failed creator, embarrassed perhaps in his failure.

'Horses' Form = seven ? with an ? rhyme scheme Themes = beauty and power of ?; ?; ?; the ? Edwin Muir was born in ? in the ?, and grew up on a ? until moving to ? at the age of ?, which he described as a 'descent from ? into ?'. His ? background and memories from his own ? form the basis of this poem. Muir ? the ? and his childhood ?, transforming ? into magnificent, mysterious and ? creatures. The poem begins with ?, ?-? imagery of horses, 'lumbering' behind the 'steady plough' on a 'bare field'. The 'lumbering' ? of these horses will ? very much with the way Muir describes their ? later in the poem. As the first stanza proceeds, however, Muir gives us more ? words, that hint at how his ? as a ? saw these animals: 'terrible', 'wild', 'strange', 'magic power'. The word 'terrible' is used in its ? form, not meaning 'bad' but rather something utterly ? (again, in its true and original sense), something that strikes the viewer with awe and wonder (and a bit of fear). The ? of the horses is ? in the third stanza, where Muir describes them with ? language ('conquering hooves'), ? language ('ritual', 'seraphim of gold') and ? language ('mute ecstatic monsters'). This final ? of them is worth unpicking. The word ecstatic suggests ? and it has strong ? connotations. ? in the ? Christian ? were said to fall into religious '?', in which they would see ? of ? and in which ? would seem to communicate ? with them (in one such ? vision St ? of Assisi is said to have received the ?, the very wounds of ?, on his own body). 'Ecstatic' is a very ? word to use, as is 'monster'. Muir is again using words in their more ? meaning, as an ? definition of monster was 'something marvellous, a divine portent', or something 'exceptionally powerful and extraordinarily gifted'. So the horses as 'mute ecstatic monsters' are wonderfully powerful and supernatural creatures. The ? of the horses continues to be ? as the poem continues, as furrows roll behind them 'like struggling snakes' and they 'seemed gigantic in the gloam'. The horses are described with lots of words suggesting ?: 'warm', 'glowing', 'fire', 'lit', 'smouldering'. All of these words create an ? of the horses standing out against the ? of the ? ('the mire'), but also make them seem ?, as if they are somehow ?. The ? imagery becomes most ? in the ? stanza, where the horses are transformed into immensely powerful, ? creatures (perhaps this is their true and natural form, now out of harness). The language is increasingly ? and the imagery increasingly ?: 'cruel apocalyptic night', 'the leaping ire of the wind', 'rage invisible and blind'. These powerful images ? in the final stanza and poet reminisces about the ? ? of his youth, and longs to return to that 'dread country crystalline' (a line that is very evocative of ? visionary poem 'Kubla ?') where ? things (like horses, 'the black field', the 'still-standing tree' took on extraordinary ?.

'Horses' Form seven quatrians with an AABB rhyme scheme Themes beauty and power of nature; memory; childhood; the imagination Edwin Muir was born in 1887 in the Orkneys, and grew up on a farm until moving to Glasgow at the age of 14, which he described as a 'descent from Eden into hell'. His rural background and memories from his own childhood form the basis of this poem. Muir romanticises the past and his childhood imagination, transforming horses into magnificent, mysterious and supernatural creatures. The poem begins with prosaic, un-romantic imagery of horses, 'lumbering' behind the 'steady plough' on a 'bare field'. The 'lumbering' movement of these horses will contrast very much with the way Muir describes their movement later in the poem. As the first stanza proceeds, however, Muir gives us more poetic words, that hint at how his imagination as a child saw these animals: 'terrible', 'wild', 'strange', 'magic power'. The word 'terrible' is used in its original form, not meaning 'bad' but rather something utterly awesome (again, in its true and original sense), something that strikes the viewer with awe and wonder (and a bit of fear). The power of the horses is emphasised in the third stanza, where Muir describes them with military language ('conquering hooves'), religious language ('ritual', 'seraphim of gold') and supernatural language ('mute ecstatic monsters'). This final image of them is worth unpicking. The word ecstatic suggests joyful and it has strong religious connotations. Saints in the early Christian church were said to fall into religious 'ecstasy', in which they would see visions of Jesus and in which God would seem to communicate directly with them (in one such ecstatic vision St Francis of Assisi is said to have received the stigmata, the very wounds of Christ, on his own body). 'Ecstatic' is a very powerful word to use, as is 'monster'. Muir is again using words in their more archaic meaning, as an early definition of monster was 'something marvellous, a divine portent', or something 'exceptionally powerful and extraordinarily gifted'. So the horses as 'mute ecstatic monsters' are wonderfully powerful and supernatural creatures. The power of the horses continues to be emphasised as the poem continues, as furrows roll behind them 'like struggling snakes' and they 'seemed gigantic in the gloam'. The horses are described with lots of words suggesting heat: 'warm', 'glowing', 'fire', 'lit', 'smouldering'. All of these words create an image of the horses standing out against the dark of the evening ('the mire'), but also make them seem supernatural, as if they are somehow glowing. The supernatural imagery becomes most emphatic in the penultimate stanza, where the horses are transformed into immensely powerful, avenging creatures (perhaps this is their true and natural form, now out of harness). The language is increasingly hyperbolic and the imagery increasingly Romantic: 'cruel apocalyptic night', 'the leaping ire of the wind', 'rage invisible and blind'. These powerful images fade in the final stanza and poet reminisces about the romantic imagination of his youth, and longs to return to that 'dread country crystalline' (a line that is very evocative of Coleridge's visionary poem 'Kubla Khan') where ordinary things (like horses, 'the black field', the 'still-standing tree' took on extraordinary significance.

'Summer Farm' Form = Four ? Themes = ?; ? relationship with ? around them; ? vs ? world This is a poem 'of two halves': the first two stanzas consider the ? as a ?; the third and fourth consider the ? more ? and are focused more on the idea of the ? self. The ? is foregrounded in the first two stanzas ('Straws' and 'hen' at the incipit of each), whereas the poet's self ('I', 'Self') becomes the focus of the last two. It appears as if the second part of the poem, the farm is then just a ? for the poet's self ('Farm within farm' being an analogy for 'Self under self'), which is by now the true focus of the poem. MacCaig is never simply a '?' poet and his preference for linking ? observation with ? wit can be seen in this poem: 'A hen stares at nothing with one eye, / Then picks it up'. His wit, highly ? as it may be, is always geared to poetic insight into ?: 'straws' look indeed 'like tame lightnings' and the hen does 'stare [...] at nothing with one eye, / Then picks it up'; his metaphors do not strike us as ?-? and intricate expressions of ?, instead, they ? highlight the peculiarities of the world around us. Most statements are plainly ? ('The water in the horsetrough shines'; 'Nine ducks go wobbling by in two straight lines'; 'A swallow falls'). In this sense, the first half of the poem is definitely concerned with the ?, and not with the ?, of ?. The latter half of the poem is concerned with ? rather than ?. The intrusion of the 'I' as of the third stanza marks the beginning of ? (still dormant - 'not thinking') and the attendant distance that will then open up between the ? and the ? at which he gazes, both in terms of ? ('Afraid of where a thought might take me'; 'in space') and ? (which crops up in the last stanza). The final stanza sees the ? of the poem (MacCaig, we assume) absorbed back into his self, becoming self-engrossed. The ? now becomes a ? for himself. What the poem is exploring, through the simple image of the ? and the speaker's response to it, is the basic incompatibility of being and ?, which constitutes a division between the ? and ? around him - ? says that: 'I ? where I'm ?, therefore I ? where I do ? think'. In addressing this philosophical issue MacCaig enters into what has been described as 'the familiar modern ? in ? poetry', that of the privileging of inner (?) or outer (?). Is poetic writing an attempt to clarify as succinctly as possible the ? or ? between the ? and the ? around him

'Summer Farm' Form Four quatrains Themes Nature; individual's relationship with world around them; inner vs outer world This is a poem 'of two halves': the first two stanzas consider the farm as a farm; the third and fourth consider the farm more metaphorically and are focused more on the idea of the speaker's self. The farm is foregrounded in the first two stanzas ('Straws' and 'hen' at the incipit of each), whereas the poet's self ('I', 'Self') becomes the focus of the last two. It appears as if the second part of the poem, the farm is then just a simile for the poet's self ('Farm within farm' being an analogy for 'Self under self'), which is by now the true focus of the poem. MacCaig is never simply a 'nature' poet and his preference for linking precise observation with creative wit can be seen in this poem: 'A hen stares at nothing with one eye, / Then picks it up'. His wit, highly idiosyncratic as it may be, is always geared to poetic insight into reality: 'straws' look indeed 'like tame lightnings' and the hen does 'stare [...] at nothing with one eye, / Then picks it up'; his metaphors do not strike us as far-fetched and intricate expressions of subjectivity, instead, they accurately highlight the peculiarities of the world around us. Most statements are plainly descriptive ('The water in the horsetrough shines'; 'Nine ducks go wobbling by in two straight lines'; 'A swallow falls'). In this sense, the first half of the poem is definitely concerned with the object, and not with the subject, of perception. The latter half of the poem is concerned with subjectivity rather than objectivity. The intrusion of the 'I' as of the third stanza marks the beginning of consciousness (still dormant - 'not thinking') and the attendant distance that will then open up between the observer and the object at which he gazes, both in terms of space ('Afraid of where a thought might take me'; 'in space') and time (which crops up in the last stanza). The final stanza sees the speaker of the poem (MacCaig, we assume) absorbed back into his self, becoming self-engrossed. The farm now becomes a metaphor for himself. What the poem is exploring, through the simple image of the farm and the speaker's response to it, is the basic incompatibility of being and consciousness, which constitutes a division between the subject and reality around him - Lacan says that: 'I think where I'm not, therefore I am where I do not think'. In addressing this philosophical issue MacCaig enters into what has been described as 'the familiar modern dichotomy in British poetry', that of the privileging of inner (subjective) or outer (objective). Is poetic writing an attempt to clarify as succinctly as possible the separation or connection between the individual and the world around him?

'The City Planners' Form = ? verse paragraphs Themes = ? of the suburbs; ? of social order to wipe out ? or ? variety The poem begins with a ? attack on the sterile ? of the residential ?. People are ? by their absence in Atwood's descriptions (rather like in ? 'Composed Upon Westminster Bridge'). In the first stanza the speaker opines: 'what offends us is / the sanities'. The ? include houses in 'pedantic rows', 'sanitary trees', 'straight swath[s]' and 'discouraged grass'. There is nothing ? here; even the 'whine' of a power mower is described in an ? as 'rational'. In stanza two, however, 'certain things' are listed that 'give momentary access to / the landscape behind or under / the future cracks'. These things have the effect of disturbing the order: the 'smell of oil', 'a splash of paint', a plastic hose 'poised in a vicious / coil' (suggestive of a snake) and 'the too fixed stare of the wide windows', which gives an ? impression. The end of the second stanza creates a palpable sense of ?, of impending ? or ? of some kind. Stanza three ? the effects of the destructive power of ? with houses described as sliding into the 'clay seas, gradual as glaciers / that right now nobody notices'. The last few words of stanza three lead on to the 'City Planners' in stanza four, with their 'insane faces of political conspirators'. The final three stanzas convey the ? of planning, 'guessing directions' as the planners 'sketch transitory lines' in their attempts to impose order on the suburbs. The ? are described as ? figures 'concealed from each other, / each in his own private blizzard'. The final two stanzas present ? that are suggestive of ?, whether through ? words ('transitory', 'rigid') or through ? of things that fade or cannot last: 'wooden borders', 'white vanishing', 'bland madness of snows'.

'The City Planners' Form irregular verse paragraphs Themes soullessness of the suburbs; inability of social order to wipe out nature or human variety The poem begins with a satirical attack on the sterile uniformity of the residential suburbs. People are conspicuous by their absence in Atwood's descriptions (rather like in Wordsworth's 'Composed Upon Westminster Bridge'). In the first stanza the speaker opines: 'what offends us is / the sanities'. The sanities include houses in 'pedantic rows', 'sanitary trees', 'straight swath[s]' and 'discouraged grass'. There is nothing untoward here; even the 'whine' of a power mower is described in an oxymoron as 'rational'. In stanza two, however, 'certain things' are listed that 'give momentary access to / the landscape behind or under / the future cracks'. These things have the effect of disturbing the order: the 'smell of oil', 'a splash of paint', a plastic hose 'poised in a vicious / coil' (suggestive of a snake) and 'the too fixed stare of the wide windows', which gives an ominous impression. The end of the second stanza creates a palpable sense of threat, of impending breakdown or violence of some kind. Stanza three anticipates the effects of the destructive power of nature with houses described as sliding into the 'clay seas, gradual as glaciers / that right now nobody notices'. The last few words of stanza three lead on to the 'City Planners' in stanza four, with their 'insane faces of political conspirators'. The final three stanzas convey the futility of planning, 'guessing directions' as the planners 'sketch transitory lines' in their attempts to impose order on the suburbs. The planners are described as remote figures 'concealed from each other, / each in his own private blizzard'. The final two stanzas present images that are suggestive of futility, whether through contrasting words ('transitory', 'rigid') or through images of things that fade or cannot last: 'wooden borders', 'white vanishing', 'bland madness of snows'.

'The Planners' Form = three ? stanzas (feel almost like ? paragraphs) Themes = sameness and ? of cities and of life After the title, the planners are referred to ? as 'they' six times. The word is used twice in the first line and appears at the beginning of the first and second stanzas. 'They' are presented as ?-?: nothing can stop them. The ambiguousness of the ? is also sinister and creates a sense of a faceless, nameless force that cannot be ? with. In stanza one there is a sameness and uniformity about the city which creates an exact but ? landscape (similar to that of the residential suburb in ? 'The City Planners'). The buildings are 'in alignment' and meet roads at 'desired points'. The words 'gridded', permutations of possibilities', 'points', 'grace of mathematics' are associated (broadly) with ?. The use of this ? here reinforces a feeling of ? about these 'planners' - they seem more mechanised than ?. The stanza ends with personification of both the ? that 'draws back' and the ? that 'surrender' in the face of such progress: the ? of the personified imagery of nature with the mathematical exactitude of the planners gives a clear sense of ? being at war with ?; the implication is that city-building and the ever expanding ? are taking over, with ? receding. The language used even suggests a ?: 'draws back' and 'surrender'. In stanza two there is a sense that ? is being erased: the 'flaws' and 'blemishes of the past'. The drilling, we are told, 'goes right through / the fossils of last century'. Anything not up to scratch is removed: 'knock off / useless blocks with dental dexterity'. An extended ? metaphor runs through the stanza. The line 'Anaesthesia, amnesia, hypnosis' is followed by 'They have the means... so it will not hurt'. But there is a sense that we are being manipulated, drugged into a state of ? with the ? aims: anaesthesia - state of having sensation blocked amnesia - condition in which memory is disturbed or lost hypnosis - sleep-like state in which the mind responds to external suggestion The images of 'gleaming gold' and 'shining teeth' suggest an ? to this perfection, just as old 'blemished' ? are replaced with gold ones or false ones. The negative ? that begins the final stanza marks a contrast and a move in an opposite direction: 'But my heart would not bleed / poetry'. The words 'single drop' and 'stain' extend the ? images from the previous stanza but the feeling here is very different. The meaning of the final stanza is ambiguous, and open to ?. The oxymoronic phrase 'our past's tomorrow' suggests the present moment. Is Cheng stating that his 'heart' will not 'bleed poetry' for the world developing around him now? Is he suggesting that these 'planners' cannot force poetry from him in the way that they powerfully manipulate everything else? The powerful 'but' does seem to suggest defiance against the power of the planners. Another way of reading is totally different: the 'But' acts more along the lines of 'in spite of all of this', as the poet claims he will not 'bleed poetry' and try to obstruct the work of the planners: staining their 'blueprint' would, of course, scupper their planning and their building - he is not going to do this; he is going to let their building continue, perhaps because there is no point fighting the inevitable.

'The Planners' Form three irregular stanzas (feel almost like verse paragraphs) Themes sameness and uniformity of cities and of life After the title, the planners are referred to anonymously as 'they' six times. The word is used twice in the first line and appears at the beginning of the first and second stanzas. 'They' are presented as all-powerful: nothing can stop them. The ambiguousness of the pronoun is also sinister and creates a sense of a faceless, nameless force that cannot be reckoned with. In stanza one there is a sameness and uniformity about the city which creates an exact but soulless landscape (similar to that of the residential suburb in Atwood's 'The City Planners'). The buildings are 'in alignment' and meet roads at 'desired points'. The words 'gridded', permutations of possibilities', 'points', 'grace of mathematics' are associated (broadly) with mathematics. The use of this language here reinforces a feeling of soullessness about these 'planners' - they seem more mechanised than human. The stanza ends with personification of both the sea that 'draws back' and the skies that 'surrender' in the face of such progress: the juxtaposition of the personified imagery of nature with the mathematical exactitude of the planners gives a clear sense of mankind being at war with nature; the implication is that city-building and the ever expanding suburbs are taking over, with nature receding. The language used even suggests a battle: 'draws back' and 'surrender'. In stanza two there is a sense that history is being erased: the 'flaws' and 'blemishes of the past'. The drilling, we are told, 'goes right through / the fossils of last century'. Anything not up to scratch is removed: 'knock off / useless blocks with dental dexterity'. An extended dentistry metaphor runs through the stanza. The line 'Anaesthesia, amnesia, hypnosis' is followed by 'They have the means... so it will not hurt'. But there is a sense that we are being manipulated, drugged into a state of compliance with the planners' aims: anaesthesia - state of having sensation blocked amnesia - condition in which memory is disturbed or lost hypnosis - sleep-like state in which the mind responds to external suggestion The images of 'gleaming gold' and 'shining teeth' suggest an artificiality to this perfection, just as old 'blemished' teeth are replaced with gold ones or false ones. The negative conjunction that begins the final stanza marks a contrast and a move in an opposite direction: 'But my heart would not bleed / poetry'. The words 'single drop' and 'stain' extend the dentistry images from the previous stanza but the feeling here is very different. The meaning of the final stanza is ambiguous, and open to interpretation. The oxymoronic phrase 'our past's tomorrow' suggests the present moment. Is Cheng stating that his 'heart' will not 'bleed poetry' for the world developing around him now? Is he suggesting that these 'planners' cannot force poetry from him in the way that they powerfully manipulate everything else? The powerful 'but' does seem to suggest defiance against the power of the planners. Another way of reading is totally different: the 'But' acts more along the lines of 'in spite of all of this', as the poet claims he will not 'bleed poetry' and try to obstruct the work of the planners: staining their 'blueprint' would, of course, scupper their planning and their building - he is not going to do this; he is going to let their building continue, perhaps because there is no point fighting the inevitable.

'The Woodspurge' Form = four ? with a monotonous ?, ?... rhyme scheme Themes = the poet's state of ? and ? The title of this poem is misleading: we expect it to be about the ? but it isn't. Stanza one The ? dominates this stanza, referred to four times. Rossetti suggests that the ? is the only force in this poem: the speaker is wholly ? as the wind moves him onwards: 'I had walked on at the wind's will'; when the wind ?, so does he: 'I sat now, for the wind was still'. This state of ? is linked to his state of ?; he allows himself to be ? by the dictates of the wind and there is no sense of ? or ? in himself. Stanza two Here we are shown the poet in all his dejection and misery: he sits with his ? on his ?, a ? posture of ?. He is ?: too miserable even to say 'alas'; yet he ensures that his posture is appropriately ? (he was not a great ?-? painter for nothing), as his ? is lying in the grass, ? his lack of care for his ? appearance. His ears 'hear the day pass', which suggests he is there for a very long time, doing nothing at all. He does not listen (?), he only hears (?). The ? repetition of 'My' adds to the ? feeling already created by the poem's ? scheme, further ? his ? and ? of movement. Stanza three In this dejected posture his ? 'had the run / of some ten weeds' to look at. Again, there is a sense of ? here: he is not moving around to take in the ? around him, he is only taking in that which is directly in his ? of sight. The description of flowers and plants as 'weeds' is deliberately ?-?, further supporting his ? mood. And here is where the ? plant makes its entrance: the poet looks at a woodspurge which is significantly 'out of the sun'. Perhaps the fact that in flowers in the shade is a ? to the speaker, who is flowering in neither sun nor shade. Stanza four The point made in this final stanza is an interesting one. He describes his misery as 'perfect grief' (yet we don't know its cause or source; it could merely be a ?, ? melancholy and nothing more) and claims that this state doesn't need to actually yield anything: his dejection leads to neither 'wisdom' or 'memory'. He has only ? one thing from his session of dejected sitting in the grass: that the ? 'has a cup of three'. So, having stared at this flower all day in a ? mood, he has learned absolutely ?. The experience has ? nothing. This is in contrast to those poets who write about ? and ? something from it. The form and structure of this poem, particularly its ? and ? rhyme scheme, is as oppressive as the speaker's depression, therefore it is aptly chosen. We are not sure whether we should ? with the speaker (who we assume to be Rossetti himself) or whether his despair is ?-? and, in the end, utterly ?.

'The Woodspurge' Form four quatrains with a monotonous AAAA, BBBB... rhyme scheme Themes the poet's state of dejection and melancholy The title of this poem is misleading: we expect it to be about the woodspurge but it isn't. Stanza one The wind dominates this stanza, referred to four times. Rossetti suggests that the wind is the only force in this poem: the speaker is wholly passive as the wind moves him onwards: 'I had walked on at the wind's will'; when the wind stops, so does he: 'I sat now, for the wind was still'. This state of passivity is linked to his state of melancholy; he allows himself to be driven by the dictates of the wind and there is no sense of will or power in himself. Stanza two Here we are shown the poet in all his dejection and misery: he sits with his head on his knees, a classic posture of melancholy. He is silent: too miserable even to say 'alas'; yet he ensures that his posture is appropriately artistic (he was not a great pre-Raphaelite painter for nothing), as his hair is lying in the grass, emphasising his lack of care for his physical appearance. His ears 'hear the day pass', which suggests he is there for a very long time, doing nothing at all. He does not listen (active), he only hears (passive). The anaphoric repetition of 'My' adds to the monotonous feeling already created by the poem's rhyme scheme, further emphasising his dejection and lack of movement. Stanza three In this dejected posture his eyes 'had the run / of some ten weeds' to look at. Again, there is a sense of passivity here: he is not moving around to take in the world around him, he is only taking in that which is directly in his line of sight. The description of flowers and plants as 'weeds' is deliberately un-romantic, further supporting his dejected mood. And here is where the titular plant makes its entrance: the poet looks at a woodspurge which is significantly 'out of the sun'. Perhaps the fact that in flowers in the shade is a contrast to the speaker, who is flowering in neither sun nor shade. Stanza four The point made in this final stanza is an interesting one. He describes his misery as 'perfect grief' (yet we don't know its cause or source; it could merely be a fashionable, artistic melancholy and nothing more) and claims that this state doesn't need to actually yield anything: his dejection leads to neither 'wisdom' or 'memory'. He has only learned one thing from his session of dejected sitting in the grass: that the woodspurge 'has a cup of three'. So, having stared at this flower all day in a depressed mood, he has learned absolutely nothing. The experience has yielded nothing. This is in contrast to those poets who write about nature and learn something from it. The form and structure of this poem, particularly its thudding and repetitive rhyme scheme, is as oppressive as the speaker's depression, therefore it is aptly chosen. We are not sure whether we should sympathise with the speaker (who we assume to be Rossetti himself) or whether his despair is self-involved and, in the end, utterly contrived.

'Where I Come From' Form = Three ?-structured stanzas Theme = ?; ?;?;? v ? Brewster was born in ? in ? and the second stanza of this poem captures her own ? of ? up in ? Canada. The poem is about the way in which people are ? by the place(s) they have ?. The first stanza focuses on the present day, and on ?; the second on the past (?) and on a ? setting. The first stanza is overwhelmingly preoccupied with ?: 'smell of smog'; 'almost-not-smell of tupils'; 'museum smell'; 'smell of work'; 'smell of subways'. The life of the ?-dweller is conjured up here through the sense of ?, primarily, and the sense of ? secondarily. The imagery she creates in this stanza suggests that cities are carefully ? and ? places - the ? of the phrase 'tidily plotted' reinforces this. The phrase can be interpreted as an ?; there is something unpleasant about the 'chromium-plated offices' and the artificial 'squares/ with a fountain in the centre'. Cities, Brewster suggest, attempt to 'tidily plot' everything in ?, from 'nature' to 'art'. Both nature and art are powerful forces that we associate with ?: to try to 'plot' these forces 'tidily' is perhaps to ? them. Her attitude to cities is ?, ultimately, but one feels it is more ? than ?. The second stanza is driven not by ? but by ? images, as the first line suggests 'people / carry woods in their minds'. The images aren't always entirely ? ones: 'blueberry patches in the burned-out bush'; 'wooden farmhouses... in need of paint'; 'battered schoolhouses / behind which violets grow'. What is interesting about these images, however, is that they all suggest that ? is not 'tidily plotted' but that it is thriving in spite of the ? and ?-down condition of this ? place. The 'bush' is 'burned-out' but blueberries are growing there; in the yards of the wooden farmhouses 'in need of paint' there is still life, as 'hens and chickens circle about'; behind the 'battered' school 'violets grow'. Instead of being ? (like the tulips) in a world of ? and ? plotting, the things that grow here grow ?. Again, her attitude to this ? place is ambiguously presented, but one suspects it is more ? than ?. Her own personal place - where she comes from - is the ? environment and it isn't an ? place: 'ice and the breaking of ice' and the 'frosty wind from fields of snow' support this fact. It is a place driven by ? - 'spring and winter / are the mind's chief seasons' she says; although this is not an easy place to live, there is a sense of it being more ? and ? than the cities described in the first stanza.

'Where I Come From' Form Three loosely-structured stanzas Theme Places; identity; memories; rural v urban Brewster was born in Canada in 1922 and the second stanza of this poem captures her own memories of growing up in rural Canada. The poem is about the way in which people are defined by the place(s) they have lived. The first stanza focuses on the present day, and on cities; the second on the past (memories) and on a rural setting. The first stanza is overwhelmingly preoccupied with smells: 'smell of smog'; 'almost-not-smell of tupils'; 'museum smell'; 'smell of work'; 'smell of subways'. The life of the city-dweller is conjured up here through the sense of smell, primarily, and the sense of sight secondarily. The imagery she creates in this stanza suggests that cities are carefully organised and artificial places - the repetition of the phrase 'tidily plotted' reinforces this. The phrase can be interpreted as an insult; there is something unpleasant about the 'chromium-plated offices' and the artificial 'squares/ with a fountain in the centre'. Cities, Brewster suggest, attempt to 'tidily plot' everything in life, from 'nature' to 'art'. Both nature and art are powerful forces that we associate with freedom: to try to 'plot' these forces 'tidily' is perhaps to ruin them. Her attitude to cities is ambiguous, ultimately, but one feels it is more negative than positive. The second stanza is driven not by smells but by visual images, as the first line suggests 'people / carry woods in their minds'. The images aren't always entirely lovely ones: 'blueberry patches in the burned-out bush'; 'wooden farmhouses... in need of paint'; 'battered schoolhouses / behind which violets grow'. What is interesting about these images, however, is that they all suggest that nature is not 'tidily plotted' but that it is thriving in spite of the poverty and run-down condition of this rural place. The 'bush' is 'burned-out' but blueberries are growing there; in the yards of the wooden farmhouses 'in need of paint' there is still life, as 'hens and chickens circle about'; behind the 'battered' school 'violets grow'. Instead of being trapped (like the tulips) in a world of smog and tidy plotting, the things that grow here grow naturally. Again, her attitude to this rural place is ambiguously presented, but one suspects it is more positive than negative. Her own personal place - where she comes from - is the rural environment and it isn't an easy place: 'ice and the breaking of ice' and the 'frosty wind from fields of snow' support this fact. It is a place driven by nature - 'spring and winter / are the mind's chief seasons' she says; although this is not an easy place to live, there is a sense of it being more real and alive than the cities described in the first stanza.

Study notes: 'A Birthday' Form Two ? stanzas Theme ? and the ? of ? 'A Birthday' is one of Christina Rossetti's most openly ? poems and at the same time one of her most ? and ?-focussed. This poem, written in ?, is dense with ? and ? images. It is ? structured in two ? (eight-line) stanzas. In the first stanza the speaker compares her ?, burgeoning with ?, to images of perfect ? in ?: a 'singing bird' at home in a 'watered shoot'; an 'apple tree / Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit'; a 'rainbow shell' paddling in 'a halcyon sea'. The series of three ?, marked through ? (? of the same opening line: 'my heart is like'), are followed by a statement that marks her own joy as ? to all of these things. The second stanza moves indoors, from ? to majestic and from ? to ?, as the speaker imagines preparations for an elaborate ceremonial celebration of 'the birthday of my life' because 'my love is come to me'. The imagery in this stanza describes an ornate and luxurious 'dais of silk and down...'. The ? quality of this ?, and the richness of what is being described, is meant to mirror the richness of her ?. It has been suggested that the poem moves away from descriptions of the ? world in the first stanza because the ? images of ? that appear in that stanza carry with them the inevitability of their own ? or ?. The 'singing bird' inhabits a 'watered shoot', surrounded by dangerous turbulence. The apple tree with its 'thickset fruit' is bending under the weight of the apples, which themselves refer back to the Fall of Man (the story of ? and ? in the Garden of Eden). The 'rainbow shell' paddling in 'a halcyon sea' is vulnerable, as a delicate object, to the changing moods of the potentially destructive ocean. These images of apparent natural ? are all precarious, and the speaker's choice of them as ? for the joy in her heart reminds the reader of the ? and changeability of ?. The need to protect herself from this ? is confirmed in stanza two, in which the speaker moves away from ? and imagines the ? of what can alternately be interpreted as: a) a throne, b) an altar, c) a bed, d) an elaborate work of art. The world of luxurious and rich objects that the speaker moves into in stanza two perhaps serves as a ? against the ? of love, protecting and even ? the love through this ? monument to love. All of the ? she uses in the second stanza are associated with wealth, power and majesty. The second stanza feels much more ?: the four ? verbs - 'raise', 'hang', 'carve', 'work' - help create this feeling of power. Therefore, it is possible to read the poem on two levels: the first level looks at how Rossetti uses different types of ? to dramatise and express the ? she feels, as well as the romantic ? she feels. But on a more complex level we can see how Rossetti very subtly acknowledges the ? of love and therefore needs to help preserve it by building a ? to it, through the highly romantic 'dais' in the second stanza but also through her poem itself, which ? and ? love.

Study notes: 'A Birthday' Form Two octet stanzas Theme Love and the immortalisation of love 'A Birthday' is one of Christina Rossetti's most openly exuberant poems and at the same time one of her most aesthetic and image-focussed. This poem, written in 1857, is dense with beautiful and rich images. It is symmetrically structured in two octet (eight-line) stanzas. In the first stanza the speaker compares her heart, burgeoning with love, to images of perfect fulfilment in nature: a 'singing bird' at home in a 'watered shoot'; an 'apple tree / Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit'; a 'rainbow shell' paddling in 'a halcyon sea'. The series of three similes, marked through anaphora (repetition of the same opening line: 'my heart is like'), are followed by a statement that marks her own joy as superlative to all of these things. The second stanza moves indoors, from humble to majestic and from nature to art, as the speaker imagines preparations for an elaborate ceremonial celebration of 'the birthday of my life' because 'my love is come to me'. The imagery in this stanza describes an ornate and luxurious 'dais of silk and down...'. The romantic quality of this imagery, and the richness of what is being described, is meant to mirror the richness of her love. It has been suggested that the poem moves away from descriptions of the natural world in the first stanza because the idealised images of nature that appear in that stanza carry with them the inevitability of their own disruption or destruction. The 'singing bird' inhabits a 'watered shoot', surrounded by dangerous turbulence. The apple tree with its 'thickset fruit' is bending under the weight of the apples, which themselves refer back to the Fall of Man (the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden). The 'rainbow shell' paddling in 'a halcyon sea' is vulnerable, as a delicate object, to the changing moods of the potentially destructive ocean. These images of apparent natural perfection are all precarious, and the speaker's choice of them as similes for the joy in her heart reminds the reader of the transience and changeability of love. The need to protect herself from this changeability is confirmed in stanza two, in which the speaker moves away from nature and imagines the creation of what can alternately be interpreted as: a) a throne, b) an altar, c) a bed, d) an elaborate work of art. The world of luxurious and rich objects that the speaker moves into in stanza two perhaps serves as a defence against the changeability of love, protecting and even immortalising the love through this ornate monument to love. All of the images she uses in the second stanza are associated with wealth, power and majesty. The second stanza feels much more powerful: the four imperative verbs - 'raise', 'hang', 'carve', 'work' - help create this feeling of power. Therefore, it is possible to read the poem on two levels: the first level looks at how Rossetti uses different types of imagery to dramatise and express the joy she feels, as well as the romantic passion she feels. But on a more complex level we can see how Rossetti very subtly acknowledges the fragility of love and therefore needs to help preserve it by building a monument to it, through the highly romantic 'dais' in the second stanza but also through her poem itself, which commemorates and immortalises love.

Study notes: 'Hunting Snake' Form = Four ? stanzas Theme = ? and the strange ? of the snake stanza one The mood of the poem begins ? - with the adjective 'Sun-warmed'. Beginning the sentence with the ? is ? (syntactical ?) and in doing so Wright makes the ? of the ? the real ?. The mood is ? as well, with the word 'grace' and the adjective 'gentlest' adding to a sense of ? and ? as they walk in the warmth of an autumn day. The word 'froze' in line three ? starkly with this, and adds to the ? of the action: they ?, and the line ? too. The ?-? line holds the ? as then the next line, a ? sentence, tells us why the 'sun-warmed' day has 'froze': 'the great black snake'. stanza two The snake is a thing of ? as well as something to ?. The poet almost imagines the snake as on a ? or ? mission, with the verb 'quested'. The snake's ? is described as 'diamond scale', which is an ? depiction of the ?-shaped pattern on snakes, but also imagines the snake as quite splendid, covered in glittering ? that the 'sun glazed'. The walkers have not only ? walking, but have also ? breathing as they watch the snake pass by. The snake therefore seems powerful and ?. stanza three The snake is obviously on the hunt for food - mice and other small creatures. We are made to think of his ?, in spite of the fact that the speaker states that they 'scarcely thought' of the 'small food' that 'fled' from his 'fierce intent'. The fact that they are so ? by the movement of this creature suggests that they've almost taken the ? side, and they ? at him till he's gone. stanza four ? simple ? are used to describe the snake: 'Cold, dark and splendid'. The words 'cold' and 'dark' seem ?, and ? interestingly with 'splendid'. 'Cold' and 'dark' are also ? accurate: snakes are ?-? animals, and the ? of the snake is ?. But these ? words do sum up the speaker's ? of seeing the snake: it is shown to be terrifying - it chills the ? of the day - but also somehow majestic and they stand back in ? of him. That the snake becomes a '?' almost gives the snake a ?, and ? qualities (although this is not ? - snakes do have ?). The snake vanishes as quickly as he appeared, and they can ? again; the 'deeper breath of day' seems to ? them, and ? them again, and they are able to continue their ?.

Study notes: 'Hunting Snake' Form Four quatrain stanzas Theme Nature and the strange beauty of the snake stanza one The mood of the poem begins warmly - with the adjective 'Sun-warmed'. Beginning the sentence with the adjective is unusual (syntactical inversion) and in doing so Wright makes the warmth of the sun the real emphasis. The mood is relaxed as well, with the word 'grace' and the adjective 'gentlest' adding to a sense of comfort and peace as they walk in the warmth of an autumn day. The word 'froze' in line three contrasts starkly with this, and adds to the emphasis of the action: they stop, and the line stops too. The end-stopped line holds the pause as then the next line, a single sentence, tells us why the 'sun-warmed' day has 'froze': 'the great black snake'. stanza two The snake is a thing of beauty as well as something to fear. The poet almost imagines the snake as on a heroic or noble mission, with the verb 'quested'. The snake's pattern is described as 'diamond scale', which is an accurate depiction of the diamond-shaped pattern on snakes, but also imagines the snake as quite splendid, covered in glittering diamonds that the 'sun glazed'. The walkers have not only stopped walking, but have also stopped breathing as they watch the snake pass by. The snake therefore seems powerful and majestic. stanza three The snake is obviously on the hunt for food - mice and other small creatures. We are made to think of his victims, in spite of the fact that the speaker states that they 'scarcely thought' of the 'small food' that 'fled' from his 'fierce intent'. The fact that they are so transfixed by the movement of this creature suggests that they've almost taken the snake's side, and they stare at him till he's gone. stanza four Three simple adjectives are used to describe the snake: 'Cold, dark and splendid'. The words 'cold' and 'dark' seem negative, and contrast interestingly with 'splendid'. 'Cold' and 'dark' are also scientifically accurate: snakes are cold-blooded animals, and the colour of the snake is black. But these contrasting words do sum up the speaker's experience of seeing the snake: it is shown to be terrifying - it chills the warmth of the day - but also somehow majestic and they stand back in awe of him. That the snake becomes a 'he' almost gives the snake a character, and human qualities (although this is not personification - snakes do have gender). The snake vanishes as quickly as he appeared, and they can breathe again; the 'deeper breath of day' seems to warm them, and animate them again, and they are able to continue their walk.

Study notes: 'Pied Beauty' Form = A ? sonnet; uses Hopkins' '? ?'; ? to the ? Theme= Beauty of ? in all its variety ?; praise of its ? - This is one of Hopkins's '?' (or ?) sonnets, in which he ? the ? sonnet form by reducing the eight lines of the ? to ? (here two ? rhyming ? ?) and shortening the ? lines of the ? to ? and a half. This alteration of the sonnet form is quite fitting for a poem advocating ? and ?. The strikingly ? repetition of ? throughout the poem ('dappled,' 'stipple,' 'tackle,' 'fickle,' 'freckled,' 'adazzle,' for example) enacts the ? act the poem ?: the weaving together of ? things into a pleasing and ? whole. - The poem opens with an ?: 'Glory be to God for dappled things.' In the next ? lines, Hopkins elaborates with examples of what 'things' he means to include under this rubric of 'dappled.' He includes the mottled white and blue colors of the sky, the 'brinded' (brindled or streaked) hide of a cow, and the patches of contrasting colour that 'stipple' on a trout. The chestnuts offer a slightly more ? image: when they fall they open to reveal the meaty interior normally concealed by the hard shell they are compared to the coals in a fire, black on the outside and glowing within. The wings of finches are multicolored, as is a patchwork of farmland in which sections look different according to whether they are planted and green ('fold'), 'fallow' or freshly ploughed. The final example is of the 'trades' and activities of man, with their rich diversity of materials and equipment. - In the final ? lines, Hopkins goes on to consider more closely the ? of these examples he has given, attaching ? qualities now to the concept of ? and diversity that he has elaborated thus far mostly in terms of ? characteristics. The poem becomes an ? for these unconventional or 'strange' things, things that might not normally be ? or thought ?. They are all, he avers, creations of ?, which, in their multiplicity, point always to the ? and permanence of His ? and ? us to 'Praise Him.' - The poem ? and ? with variations on the ? of the ? order ('to the greater glory of God' and 'praise to God always'), which give it a ? flavour, tempering the ? of its appreciations. The ? of the beginning and end correspond to a larger ? within the poem: the first part (the shortened ?) begins with ? and then moves to praise his ?. The last ?-and-a-half lines ? this movement, beginning with the ? of things in the world and then tracing them back to a final affirmation of ?. - The ? of the verb ('fathers-forth') in this ? sentence makes this return all the more ? when it comes; the long and list-like predicate, which captures the ? of the ? world, at last yields in the penultimate line to a striking and unusual ? of creation and then leads us to acknowledge an absolute subject, ? the Creator. The poem is thus a ? of ?, praising ? by praising the ? world. It expresses the ? view that the great ? in the natural world is a testimony to the perfect ?of God and the infinitude of His creative power. In the context of a ? age that valued ?, efficiency and ?, this ?notion takes on a tone of ?.

Study notes: 'Pied Beauty' Form A CURTAILED sonnet; uses Hopkins' 'SPRUNG RTHYM'; HYMN to the CREATOR Theme Beauty of NATURE in all its variety IRREGULARITIES; praise of its CREATOR This is one of Hopkins's 'CURTAIL' (or CURTAILED) sonnets, in which he MINIATURIZES the TRADITIONAL sonnet form by reducing the eight lines of the OCTAVE to SIX (here two TERCETS rhyming ABC ABC) and shortening the SIX lines of the SETSTET to FOUR and a half. This alteration of the sonnet form is quite fitting for a poem advocating ORIGINALITY and CONTRARINESS. The strikingly MUSICL repetition of SOUNDS throughout the poem ('dappled,' 'stipple,' 'tackle,' 'fickle,' 'freckled,' 'adazzle,' for example) enacts the CREATIVE act the poem glorifies: the weaving together of DIVERSE things into a pleasing and COHERENT whole. The poem opens with an OFFERING: 'Glory be to God for dappled things.' In the next FIVE lines, Hopkins elaborates with examples of what 'things' he means to include under this rubric of 'dappled.' He includes the mottled white and blue colors of the sky, the 'brinded' (brindled or streaked) hide of a cow, and the patches of contrasting colour that 'stipple' on a trout. The chestnuts offer a slightly more COMPLEX image: when they fall they open to reveal the meaty interior normally concealed by the hard shell they are compared to the coals in a fire, black on the outside and glowing within. The wings of finches are multicolored, as is a patchwork of farmland in which sections look different according to whether they are planted and green ('fold'), 'fallow' or freshly ploughed. The final example is of the 'trades' and activities of man, with their rich diversity of materials and equipment. In the final FIVE lines, Hopkins goes on to consider more closely the CHARACTERISTICS of these examples he has given, attaching MORAL qualities now to the concept of VARIETY and DIVERSITY that he has elaborated thus far mostly in terms of PHYSICAL characteristics. The poem becomes an APOLOGIA for these unconventional or 'strange' things, things that might not normally be VALUED or thought BEAUTIFUL. They are all, he avers, creations of GOD, which, in their multiplicity, point always to the UNITY and permanence of His POWER and INSPIRE us to 'Praise Him.' The poem BEGINS and ENDS with VARIATIONS on the MOTTOES of the JESUIT order ('to the greater glory of God' and 'praise to God always'), which give it a TRADITIONAL flavour, tempering the UNORTHODOXY of its appreciations. The PARELLISM of the beginning and end correspond to a larger SYMMETRY within the poem: the first part (the shortened OCTAVE) begins with GOD and then moves to praise his CREATIONS. The last FOUR-and-a-half lines REVERSE this movement, beginning with the CHARACTERISTICS of things in the world and then tracing them back to a final affirmation of GOD. The DELAY of the VERB ('fathers-forth') in this EXTENDED sentence makes this return all the more SATISFYING when it comes; the long and list-like predicate, which captures the MULTIPLICITY of the CREATED world, at last yields in the penultimate line to a striking and unusual verb of creation and then leads us to acknowledge an absolute subject, GOD the Creator. The poem is thus a HYMN of CREATION, praising GOD by praising the CREATED world. It expresses the THEOLOGICAL view that the great VARIETY in the natural world is a testimony to the perfect UNITY of God and the infinitude of His creative power. In the context of a VICTORIAN age that valued UNIFORMITY, efficiency and STANDARDIZATION, this THEOLOGICAL notion takes on a tone of PROTEST.

Study notes: 'The Cockroach' Form = ?, using ? metaphor Theme = ? nature and its ? and ? - mirrored in ? At first glance, this poem is about, as the title suggests, a cockroach. However, it soon appears that the detailed description of the cockroach is in fact an ? metaphor for the ? of the poem (presumably the poet) or of ? more generally. This is first hinted by the fact that the cockroach is 'giant' - is it ? for its species, or large to the point it is the size of a ? This is later reinforced by the ? activities of the cockroach in later lines - 'jog', 'trace', 'circle' - remarkably ?-like actions for an ?. These closely described frantic actions of the cockroach (lines 3-11) seem to represent ? nature in a way. The cockroach is satisfied with his ? situation, but then quickly gets ? of it and begins to want something more, something new, and so does so - beginning to shift from his activity of tracing the 'path between the wainscot and the door' to 'jog in crooked rings, circling...'. He is then struck by a case of ?, but then finally finds something exciting, new - the open shelf. However, instead of going straight in, he hesitates: 'he looked uncertain where to go'. His actions seem to represent ? nature, how we, sometimes very suddenly, realise that instead of being content and satisfied with what we have, we want more: the ? of human ? are endless. We soon get restless and bored and disappointed with ? and where we are in it. However, Halligan suggests that when we do find an opportunity to take the chances to get what we want there is sometimes a moment of ? and ?: is this what we really want? Is the risk worth it to take the chance? The definite ? that the cockroach ? ? arrives with the last line ('Except I thought I recognized myself'), where the true idea of the poem is revealed: ? scurry through ? frantically, almost rushing through it, but without any true ? or purpose. We are constantly looking for ? we can take, but when actually presented with them, realise that we ? even know what we truly want. The structure of this poem is important, not least the choice to write this poem about the most '?' of subjects in the ? form (associated with ? poetry). The ? is ? structured with a ? rhyme scheme (?CDCD). The 'But' at the start of the second ? signals an important turning-point, as the cockroach's ? become ? certain ('jog in crooked rings'). There is use of ? at the end of the octave and beginning of the sestet: 'a mild attack / Of restlessness'. Interesting, too, is the irregular rhyme scheme of the ? (EFGEGF), which reflects the lack of ? and ? in the ? half of the poem.

Study notes: 'The Cockroach' Form Sonnet, using extended metaphor Theme Human nature and its restlessness and anxiety - mirrored in insect At first glance, this poem is about, as the title suggests, a cockroach. However, it soon appears that the detailed description of the cockroach is in fact an extended metaphor for the speaker of the poem (presumably the poet) or of humanity more generally. This is first hinted by the fact that the cockroach is 'giant' - is it large for its species, or large to the point it is the size of a human? This is later reinforced by the personifying activities of the cockroach in later lines - 'jog', 'trace', 'circle' - remarkably human-like actions for an insect. These closely described frantic actions of the cockroach (lines 3-11) seem to represent human nature in a way. The cockroach is satisfied with his current situation, but then quickly gets bored of it and begins to want something more, something new, and so does so - beginning to shift from his activity of tracing the 'path between the wainscot and the door' to 'jog in crooked rings, circling...'. He is then struck by a case of restlessness, but then finally finds something exciting, new - the open shelf. However, instead of going straight in, he hesitates: 'he looked uncertain where to go'. His actions seem to represent human nature, how we, sometimes very suddenly, realise that instead of being content and satisfied with what we have, we want more: the depths of human desires are endless. We soon get restless and bored and disappointed with life and where we are in it. However, Halligan suggests that when we do find an opportunity to take the chances to get what we want there is sometimes a moment of hesitation and uncertainty: is this what we really want? Is the risk worth it to take the chance? The definite realisation that the cockroach personifies humanity arrives with the last line ('Except I thought I recognized myself'), where the true idea of the poem is revealed: humans scurry through life frantically, almost rushing through it, but without any true goal or purpose. We are constantly looking for choices we can take, but when actually presented with them, realise that we don't even know what we truly want. The structure of this poem is important, not least the choice to write this poem about the most 'unromantic' of subjects in the sonnet form (associated with love poetry). The octave is tightly structured with a regular rhyme scheme (ABABCDCD). The 'But' at the start of the second quatrain signals an important turning-point, as the cockroach's movements become less certain ('jog in crooked rings'). There is use of enjambment at the end of the octave and beginning of the sestet: 'a mild attack / Of restlessness'. Interesting, too, is the irregular rhyme scheme of the sestet (EFGEGF), which reflects the lack of certainty and direction in the second half of the poem.

Themes 'Pike' Form = 11 ?, ? Themes = coexistence of ? and viciousness in nature; power of ? over ? Hughes presents the pike as something ?, which is perhaps ? because it is a notoriously ? fish. Yet for Hughes the pike is 'perfect', meriting ? and ? imagery: 'green tigering the gold' (? image as Hughes takes a ? and converts it to a ? to describe the ? and ? of the pike); they even 'dance on the surface among the flies', they are 'stunned by their own grandeur / Over a bed of emerald'. Yet at the same time these fish are 'killers from the egg', with a 'malevolent aged grin'. Hughes perhaps sums up the ? of ? with ? in the line 'submarine delicacy and horror'. As the poem develops we get a less ? view of the fish, as their status as ruthless ? machines is established: 'The jaws' hooked clamp and fangs', 'gills kneading quietly'. From the ? stanza we are given a glimpse of Hughes' ? of fish, kept in a ?. They are 'kept behind glass,/ Jungled in weed'. This is another ? instance of a ? becoming a ?, and creates an effect of ? (as does perhaps the 'tigering' in the ? example). Hughes ? the brutal ? of the fish - truly a survival of the fittest - as they gradually eat each other: the ? of the fish is reflecting in the gradual ? of ?: 'Three we kept behind glass... / Suddenly there were two. Finally one.' The picture of the pike at this point is of a ?, ? creature: 'with a sag belly and the grin it was born with', a statement that ? the gluttonous ? of the fish as well as the idea that ? were ? this way: 'killers from the egg'. It is in their nature to 'spare nobody'. The image of 'One jammed past its gills down the other's gullet' is a ? one, and Hughes focuses on the ? of the fish, still ? 'as a vice locks' even though it is 'shrank in death'. From stanza ? we move into Hughes's ? of ? for ? as a ?. He describes the pond that 'had outlasted every visible stone' of the old monastery that once stood there: in this way we get a sense of ? outlasting ?-made ?. It almost becomes a ? setting: a pond at night in the grounds of a ruined monastery. The pond becomes this mystical place, through Hughes's use of ?: 'It was as deep as England. It held / Pike too immense to stir...'. The pike here are no longer the ? creatures of previous stanzas, but rather ?, powerful creatures hiding in the 'legendary' depths of this pond. Hughes recounts his ? of 'dar[ing] not to cast' when it was 'past nightfall'. But he does ? anyway, and the ? mood continues with his 'hair frozen on [his] head': he fears the ? of the fish the most (which links us back to his focus on their ? in stanza ?): 'what eye might move'. This is a ? of being watched. His fishing experience turns into one of terror, a perfect ?: 'the dream / Darkness beneath night's darkness had freed, / That rose slowly towards me, watching'. This is a sinister and powerful ending, with a sense of the pike moving upwards towards him (aided by the assonance in 'rose slowly towards') and the final word 'watching' bringing us back to the image of the ? of the pike: 'the outside eye stared: as a vice locks'.

Themes 'Pike' Form 11 quatrains, unrhymed Themes coexistence of beauty and viciousness in nature; power of nature over man Hughes presents the pike as something beautiful, which is perhaps ironic because it is a notoriously ugly fish. Yet for Hughes the pike is 'perfect', meriting poetic and romantic imagery: 'green tigering the gold' (unusual image as Hughes takes a noun and converts it to a verb to describe the colours and texture of the pike); they even 'dance on the surface among the flies', they are 'stunned by their own grandeur / Over a bed of emerald'. Yet at the same time these fish are 'killers from the egg', with a 'malevolent aged grin'. Hughes perhaps sums up the coexistence of beauty with viciousness in the line 'submarine delicacy and horror'. As the poem develops we get a less romanticised view of the fish, as their status as ruthless killing machines is established: 'The jaws' hooked clamp and fangs', 'gills kneading quietly'. From the fifth stanza we are given a glimpse of Hughes' memory of fish, kept in a tank. They are 'kept behind glass,/ Jungled in weed'. This is another unusual instance of a noun becoming a verb, and creates an effect of wildness (as does perhaps the 'tigering' in the earlier example). Hughes emphasises the brutal nature of the fish - truly a survival of the fittest - as they gradually eat each other: the dwindling of the fish is reflecting in the gradual shortening of clauses: 'Three we kept behind glass... / Suddenly there were two. Finally one.' The picture of the pike at this point is of a vile, malicious creature: 'with a sag belly and the grin it was born with', a statement that emphasises the gluttonous cannibalism of the fish as well as the idea that pike were born this way: 'killers from the egg'. It is in their nature to 'spare nobody'. The image of 'One jammed past its gills down the other's gullet' is a powerful one, and Hughes focuses on the eyes of the fish, still strong 'as a vice locks' even though it is 'shrank in death'. From stanza eight we move into Hughes's memories of fishing for pike as a child. He describes the pond that 'had outlasted every visible stone' of the old monastery that once stood there: in this way we get a sense of nature outlasting man-made structures. It almost becomes a gothic setting: a pond at night in the grounds of a ruined monastery. The pond becomes this mystical place, through Hughes's use of hyperbole: 'It was as deep as England. It held / Pike too immense to stir...'. The pike here are no longer the vile creatures of previous stanzas, but rather mystical, powerful creatures hiding in the 'legendary' depths of this pond. Hughes recounts his memory of 'dar[ing] not to cast' when it was 'past nightfall'. But he does cast anyway, and the gothic mood continues with his 'hair frozen on [his] head': he fears the eyes of the fish the most (which links us back to his focus on their eyes in stanza seven): 'what eye might move'. This is a fear of being watched. His fishing experience turns into one of terror, a perfect nightmare: 'the dream / Darkness beneath night's darkness had freed, / That rose slowly towards me, watching'. This is a sinister and powerful ending, with a sense of the pike moving upwards towards him (aided by the assonance in 'rose slowly towards') and the final word 'watching' bringing us back to the image of the eyes of the pike: 'the outside eye stared: as a vice locks'.