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Showing posts with label his art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label his art. Show all posts

Sunday, 16 December 2012

A Shadow


A Shadow

I said unto myself, if I were dead,
What would befall these children? What would be
Their fate, who now are looking up to me
For help and furtherance? Their lives, I said,
Would be a volume wherein I have read
But the first chapters, and no longer see
To read the rest of their dear history,
So full of beauty and so full of dread.
Be comforted; the world is very old,
And generations pass, as they have passed,
A troop of shadows moving with the sun;
Thousands of times has the old tale been told;
The world belongs to those who come the last,
They will find hope and strength as we have done. 



REVIEW

Acording to my interpretation and a few readings of the poem talks about two different generations ,one generation being the earlier ones ,the more experienced individuals who fear ,who are afraid that if they die what wil happen to the future .They fear the outcome of the newer generations and are afraid that there will be no one to teach them the ways of life.The older generation believes that the children are looking up to them for guidance and furtherance and they will not be able to provide the youth any support if they die. A beautiful line reads;

Their lives, I said,
Would be a volume wherein I have read
But the first chapters, and no longer see
To read the rest of their dear history,


It says that only a few chapters of the youngs life are covered but much more is there to teach and needs to be taught. Different generations pass along like shadows and its their duty to teach the next the ways of life. The poem ends on the note that this has been happeneing since centuries and the world belongs to the future ,it is theirs to uphold and like the previous gnerations before them they will find strenghth and hope to live and improve their and their childrens lives.

Aftermath


Aftermath

When the summer fields are mown, 
When the birds are fledged and flown, 
And the dry leaves strew the path; 
With the falling of the snow, 
With the cawing of the crow, 
Once again the fields we mow 
And gather in the aftermath. 
Not the sweet, new grass with flowers 
Is this harvesting of ours; 
Not the upland clover bloom; 
But the rowen mixed with weeds, 
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads, 
Where the poppy drops its seeds 
In the silence and the gloom.




REVIEW

Aftermath was quite a beautifully written poem which after a few readings according to me talks about all the seasons through the entire piece. Each line speaks of a season and although a short piece speaks of an entire year .For example, he describes the mowing of fields and birds traveling at the end of spring and summer . Then, he mentions the falling, golden leaves and snow for the following seasons .After giving brief details of each season, Longfellow claims that it’s time for an aftermath. Now that spring is back again, the year deserves a review and a plan for moving forward. He says, “Once again the fields we mow and gather in the aftermath”. As done by romantic writers nature and its beauty form an integral part of their poetry .The outdoors proved to be a huge inspiration for writers at this time, so they discussed it very often in their work. “Aftermath” also follows the journey of the changing seasons.A story of travel and change is also popular in the Romanticism period. Longfellow makes use of alliteration and personification as seen in the line “Tangled tufts from marsh and meads” (Longfellow). Personification was given to the poppy, a flower, when it “drops its seeds”. Flowers don’t have hands, so they can’t literally drop something. Instead, Longfellow is giving the flower human like traits. A typical poem of a typical era written extremely well using only a few words to describe a plethora of emotions.

A Nameless Grave


A Nameless Grave

'A soldier of the Union mustered out,'
Is the inscription on an unknown grave
At Newport News, beside the salt-sea wave,
Nameless and dateless; sentinel or scout
Shot down in skirmish, or disastrous rout
Of battle, when the loud artillery drave
Its iron wedges through the ranks of brave
And doomed battalions, storming the redoubt.
Thou unknown hero sleeping by the sea
In thy forgotten grave! with secret shame
I feel my pulses beat, my forehead burn,
When I remember thou hast given for me
All that thou hadst, thy life, thy very name,
And I can give thee nothing in return. 


REVIEW

As clearly seen this poetry focuses a lot on diction.The words used in the poem are prim ,precise and very honest and help bring out the meaing of the poetry very well .According to me this is one of longfellows best poems because in a few lines he is able to convey an exemplary message.
The first few lines of the poem read:
A soldier of the Union mustered out,
Is the inscription on an unknown grave
At Newport News, beside the salt-sea wave,