THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY LITERATURE COMPANION by ANNE SKILLION

Author:ANNE SKILLION
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE FREE PRESS
Published: 2001-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

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GREAT LINES FROM GREAT POEMS: A MATCHING QUIZ

Match the quotation to the poet:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers—

That perches in the soul—

And sings the tune without the words—

And never stops—at all—

And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark Satanic mills?

Do I contradict myself?

Very well then…. I contradict myself;

I am large…. I contain multitudes.

Glory be to God for dappled things—

For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings …

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,

starving hysterical naked …

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!

Bird thou never wert …

And we are here as on a darkling plain

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough

A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—-and Thou

Beside me singing in the wilderness—

Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines:

for our vines have tender grapes.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book …

It is not a carol of joy or glee,

But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core …

I know why the caged bird sings!

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;

All chance, direction which thou canst not see …

Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

Or to keep off envy’s stinging,

And find

What wind

Serves to advance an honest mind.

unless statistics lie he was

more brave than me:more blond than you.

I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast.

guns aren’t lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smells awful;

You might as well live.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

Let us roll all our strength and all

Our Sweetness up into a ball,

And tear our pleasures with rough strife

Through the iron gates of life.

I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.

I want to peek at the back

Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows.

A girl gets sick of a rose.

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