Share this page:. I wrote a poem on the mist And a woman asked me what I meant by it. I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist, how pearl and gray of it mix and reel, And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening into points of mystery quivering with color. I answered: The whole world was mist once long ago and some day it will all go back to mist, Our skulls and lungs are more water than bone and tissue And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers Go running back to dust and mist.
If you pause and think about what has been written in this poem, it is very profound indeed. Amazing monster! O flat and shocking face, Grimly divided from the breast below! Thou that on dry land horribly dost go With a split body and most ridiculous pace, Prong after prong, disgracer of all grace, Long-useless-finned, haired, upright, unwet, slow!
O breather of unbreathable, sword-sharp air, How canst exist? How bear thyself, thou dry And dreary sloth? WHat particle canst share Of the only blessed life, the watery? I sometimes see of ye an actual pair Go by! Great serenity: Questions and answers. IN the small and great world too, What most charms a woman's heart? It is doubtless what is new, For its blossoms joy impart; Nobler far is what is true, For fresh blossoms it can shoot Even in the time of fruit. With the Nymphs in wood and cave Paris was acquainted well, Till Zeus sent, to make him rave, Three of those in Heav'n who dwell; And the choice more trouble gave Than e'er fell to mortal lot, Whether in old times or not.
Tenderly a woman view, And thoult win her, take my word; He who's quick and saucy too, Will of all men be preferr'd; Who ne'er seems as if he knew If he pleases, if he charms,-- He 'tis injures, he 'tis harms.
Fire and Ice : Summary , Class 10 Questions and Answers , NCERT Solutions
Manifold is human strife, Human passion, human pain; Many a blessing yet is rife, Many pleasures still remain. Yet the greatest bliss in life, And the richest prize we find, Is a good, contented mind. He by whom man's foolish will Is each day review'd and blamed, Who, when others fools are still, Is himself a fool proclaim'd,-- Ne'er at mill was beast's back press'd With a heavier load than he.
What I feel within my breast That in truth's the thing for me! Is it worth bringing a child into the world, mother? Terror has taken over our lives, lamented my daughter… Her question haunted me, and I pondered a while.Some say the world will end in fire Some say in ice. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.
The poet is analysing about the end of the world. The poet provides and deals with two possible causes for the end of the world. He considers the age-old question of whether the world will end in fire or in ice. Both the two reasons contrast each other and are equally opposite to each other.
On one side of the debate are tohse people who are in favour of fire.
Poems About Courage
They believe that it will be the heat and the passion, which will lead the humanity, the world, to end. Frost is providing a powerful statement on the subject of greed and jealously. He is saying that above anything else, even hatred, which is the trail of humanity, is most likely to lead the world to its demise.
But if it had to perish twice, I think, I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. The poet is very much sure of the destruction of the humanity. He first talks about the destruction caused by fire and in case this fails, then ice will result into hatred that will end humanity one day. Frost foes on to discuss, in a more understated manner, the power of hate, which is symbolised in the poem by ice.
Hate, according to the speaker, is just as powerful as desire. While desire consumes, quickly, hate is just as great and powerful. Frost directs the reader to the shy yet restrained devastation that hate can produce. Hate is presented as having the ability to lead to the destruction of the world if it were to happen for a second time, again providing a powerful warning against this human fallacy misunderstanding.
The central idea around which the entire poem revolves is that only love, equality, mutual understanding and sympathy for one and all can help in establishing peace on the earth. The poet mentions that both the ice and fire can bring probable end to this world. The poet talks about how fire represents desire and can therefore be a cause of the end of the world.
Too much fire and passion can quickly consume a relationship. Imagery : A figure of speech where an object, person or situation has another meaning other than its literal meaning. Do you think the world will end some day? I do believe that the world will end some day as anything that has a beginning will have an ending.
This stands true for the world also.About the Author- John Berryman. John Berryman — A Short Biography.
About the Poet. John Allyn Mc. Alphin Berryman was an American poet and scholar. He was married to Kate Donahue in He was educated at Clare College, Columbia University.
He was awarded Pulitzer prize for poetry in He died on 7 January Introduction of the lesson- The Ball Poem. A boy loses a ball in the water. He is Very upset at the loss of the gall. A ball does not cost much.
Central Idea of the Poem. The boy is severely upset over the loss.
Normally, it may seem like a great overreaction. Children lose things like their toys and balls quite often. Usually, no fuss should be made about such a small thing. The boy becoming an adult loses his childhood. He was clinging onto his childhood for so long. The poet accepts the changes in his life. Although he is still suffering yet he is learning to move on from his fleeting childhood. The true theme of the poem is that we should cherish every moment of life.
Life is really very short. The poet realises that it is very difficult to deal with the loss but it must be done. We should move on as there is no use in wasting precious time and life.
The poem uses a good combination of tone, imagery and symbolism.What kind of destruction can be caused by violent wind? Ans: The wind, through its violent force, can play havoc in the world.
It causes huge damage to life and property. Buildings collapse, window shutters are broken, papers are scattered and books are thrown down. The wind causes clouds to make heavy showers which create many problems for the poor and weak people.
When the violent wind blows, the fragile, unsturdy houses crumble down, doors come off their hinges, rafters fall down, and the wooden panels collapse. The small flames of fires are also extinguished by the wind. The god of wind suppresses and destroys weak people and structures. Proud of his power, he causes large-scale destruction. How does the poet use wind as a symbol in relation to human beings? Human life is full of hardships. How does the poet reveal it?
Men have to encounter terrible suffering, sorrows, difficulties, and failures. So powerful are these troubles that only very strong people are able to overcome them and move ahead.
Weak, infirm and indecisive people surrender in front of hardships and accept defeat. But, strong people with patience, unwavering minds and firm will fight against the hardships and emerge even stronger.
Human lives can never be devoid of struggle. One only needs physical and mental strength to overcome the unfavourable circumstances. The winds of troubles cannot harm those who have the power to stand firm. Strong people can turn their difficulties into opportunities and learn lessons from them. They know how to turn tides in their favour. Which values of life do the poet emphasize in the poem?
What moral values does it preach? The poet uses the wind as a symbol of problems in life while the sturdy structures symbolize unfaltering, strong human beings. The poet uses both the symbols and direct statement to bring home the values of strong physical health and mental powers, confidence and a firm will. Life is not a cakewalk; it is strewn with obstacles and challenges.
However only the weak-willed and infirm people are unable to beat these obstacles and challenges, and meekly accept their failures and defeats. The forces of unfavourable, unhappy circumstances fail to conquer those who have the courage.Question 1. Can courage be developed suddenly? Answer: No, courage cannot be developed suddenly, because it is something, deep-rooted in the soul of a man. Question 2. When should we have courage? Answer: All those who make great efforts towards a goal, should have courage.
Question 3. Give an example for dazzling light. Question 4. Can a courageous man be defeated? Answer: No, a courageous man cannot be defeated. This is so because a brave man can never be freed of it. Question 5. Question 6. What are the characteristics of a courageous man? Answer: Patience and strength are the characteristics of a courageous man. Answer: A courageous man needs patience because courage is a slow, steady and firm quality.
Rhyme Scheme: A rhyme scheme is the pattern of rhyming words at the end of each line of a poem or song. It is usually referred to by using letters to indicate which lines rhyme; lines designated with the same sound rhyme with each other. Write the rhyme scheme of the poem.
Bio — Poem A Bio — Poem is an essay about oneself in the form of poetry. Work in small groups.Here is an analysis of the poem Couragewritten by Anne Sexton. This poem conveys the different ways in which a person can show courage, ranging from the seemingly insignificant to the much more heroic.
While her life was tragically short, Anne Sexton was a prolific poet, and she won a multitude of awards, including the Pulitzer Prize for her book of poetry called Live or Die.
Sexton is often compared to Sylvia Plath, who wrote Metaphorsboth because much of her poetry is an intimate look into her psyche, and also because she, too, dealt with depression and ultimately committed suicide by asphyxiating herself. Anne Sexton was only forty-five years old when she died inbut she is one of the most widely read writers in American poetry.
For instance, the first stanza discusses childhood; the second stanza describes the scenes from young adulthood; the third stanza contends with middle age; the final stanza discusses old age. The speaker of the poem gives examples instances in each life stage where a person may have to show courage. It is also important to point out that courage serves as the theme of the poem, as well.
Using an action verb such as this involves the reader even more, forcing them to look back on their own experiences. She continues with the negative aspects of courage with the last five lines of the first stanza, which flow together:. Then they called you crybaby or poor or fatty or crazy and made you into an alien, you drank their acid and concealed it. Here, Sexton acknowledges that we have all been bullied for something in our lives.
Perhaps we did not have money, or we were chubby or acted weird. Sexton reminds the reader that he or she drank the acid—the poisonous substance that wears away at things—but he or she concealed it.
Sexton acknowledges here that the war was fought in the absence of pride. She continues with this idea of what the reader did not do.
Chapter-5.1 The Ball Poem- Extra Questions and NCERT Solution
For instance, if one were to swallow a bunch of pills, a doctor may give the patient charcoal to help absorb the overdose of medication. Therefore, Sexton is speaking metaphorically here: the solider kept swallowing his courage in order to soak up all of the fear inside of himself.
The last four lines of the second stanza veer a bit off course. Instead of talking about courage, Sexton instead brings up love. She writes. If your buddy saved you And died himself in so doing; Then his courage was not courage, It was love, love as simple as shaving soap.
He did this not because he was brave, but because he loved his friend. The first line of the third stanza parallels the second. It could have come about due to any number of reasons: grief, depression, illness, divorce. Whatever the despair, the person faced it and endured it on his own. Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow, you gave it a back rub and then you covered it with a blanket and after it had slept a while it woke to the wings of the roses and was transformed. She is proclaiming to the reader that she, too, has shown courage and endured unthinkable tragedies, and because of that, she and the reader—all of humanity, really—are the same.
In these lines, she tells the story that the person took their sorrow, and instead of letting it take over, they nursed it back to health. Through this, the sorrow transformed into something beautiful. The final stanza is separate from the other three stanzas in that the reader has yet to experience some of the events being discussed.
This stanza is about old age and coming to the realization that one will not live forever. The last four lines are particularly bittersweet.Or I fear you never will learn at all. The big kite nodded: "Ah well, goodby; I'm off;" and he rose toward the tranquil sky. Then the little kite's paper stirred at the sight, And trembling he shook himself free for flight.
First whirling and frightened, then braver grown, Up, up he rose through the air alone, Till the big kite looking down could see The little one rising steadily. Then how the little kite thrilled with pride, As he sailed with the big kite side by side! While far below he could see the ground, And the boys like small spots moving round. They rested high in the quiet air, And only the birds and the clouds were there.
Brave hearts bend not so soon to care— Firm minds uplift the load of fate; They bear what others shrink to bear, And boldly any doom await! They rise above what would oppress A weaker spirit to the ground; And, though they feel no jot the less, Their sorrows scorn to breathe a sound.
Great hearts endurance cannot bend; Nor daily care, nor trial, tame; But these nor ask, nor gain, a friend— Nor seek, nor ever find, a name! In arms the Austrian phalanx stood, A living wall, a human wood,— A wall, where every conscious stone Seemed to its kindred thousands grown.
A rampart all assaults to bear, Till time to dust their frames should wear; So still, so dense the Austrians stood, A living wall, a human wood. Impregnable their front appears, All horrent with projected spears. Whose polished points before them shine, From flank to flank, one brilliant line, Bright as the breakers' splendours run Along the billows to the sun.
Opposed to these a hovering band Contended for their fatherland; Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke From manly necks the ignoble yoke, And beat their fetters into swords, On equal terms to fight their lords; And what insurgent rage had gained, In many a mortal fray maintained; Marshalled, once more, at Freedom's call, They came to conquer or to fall, Where he who conquered, he who fell, Was deemed a dead or living Tell, Such virtue had that patriot breathed, So to the soil his soul bequeathed, That wheresoe'er his arrows flew, Heroes in his own likeness grew, And warriors sprang from every sod, Which his awakening footstep trod.
And now the work of life and death Hung on the passing of a breath; The fire of conflict burned within, The battle trembled to begin; Yet, while the Austrians held their ground, Point for attack was nowhere found; Where'er the impatient Switzers gazed, The unbroken line of lances blazed; That line 'twere suicide to meet, And perish at their tyrant's feet; How could they rest within their graves, And leave their homes, the homes of slaves!
Would not they feel their children tread, With clanging chains, above their head? It must not be; this day, this hour, Annihilates the invader's power; All Switzerland is in the field; She will not fly,—she cannot yield,— She must not fall; her better fate Here gives her an immortal date. Few were the numbers she could boast, But every freeman was a host, And felt as 'twere a secret known That one should turn the scale alone, While each unto himself was he On whose sole arm hung victory.
It did depend on one indeed; Behold him,—Arnold Winkelried; There sounds not to the trump of fame The echo of a nobler name. Unmarked he stood amid the throng, In rumination deep and long, Till you might see, with sudden grace, The very thought come o'er his face; And, by the motion of his form, Anticipate the bursting storm, And, by the uplifting of his brow, Tell where the bolt would strike, and how.
But 'twas no sooner thought than done!
The field was in a moment won; "Make way for liberty! Their keen points crossed from side to side; He bowed amidst them like a tree, And thus made way for liberty. Swift to the breach his comrades fly, "Make way for liberty! While instantaneous as his fall, Rout, ruin, panic, seized them all; An earthquake could not overthrow A city with a surer blow.
Thus Switzerland again was free; Thus Death made way for Liberty! At midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power.
In dreams, through camp and court he bore The trophies of a conqueror; In dreams, his song of triumph heard; Then wore his monarch's signet ring; Then pressed that monarch's throne—a king: As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird. At midnight, in the forest shades, Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band, True as the steel of their tried blades, Heroes in heart and hand.
There had the Persian's thousands stood, There had the glad earth drunk their blood, On old Plataea's day: And now there breathed that haunted air, The sons of sires who conquered there, With arms to strike, and soul to dare, As quick, as far as they.
An hour passed on—the Turk awoke; That bright dream was his last: He woke—to hear his sentries shriek, "To arms! They fought—like brave men, long and well; They piled that ground with Moslem slain; They conquered—but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile, when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won: Then saw in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun.
Come to the bridal chamber, Death! Come to the mother, when she feels For the first time her firstborn's breath; Come when the blessed seals That close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke; Come in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake's shock, the ocean storm; Come when the heart beats high and warm With banquet song, and dance, and wine: And thou art terrible—the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know, or dream, or fear Of agony, are thine.
But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word; And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be.