Вы находитесь на странице: 1из 34

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. `By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: Mayst hear the merry din.' He holds him with his skinny hand, "There was a ship," quoth he. `Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropped he. He holds him with his glittering eye The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will. The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. "The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he!

And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon -" The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon. The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy. The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. "And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And foward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken The ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around:

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound! At length did cross an Albatross, Thorough the fog it came; As it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo! In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white moonshine." `God save thee, ancient Mariner, From the fiends that plague thee thus! Why look'st thou so?' -"With my crossbow I shot the Albatross."

Part II "The sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo! And I had done a hellish thing,

And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow! Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white. And some in dreams assured were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow. And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung."

Part III "There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist. A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered. With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! a sail! With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: Gramercy! they for joy did grin, And all at once their breath drew in, As they were drinking all. See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel! The western wave was all a-flame, The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the sun. And straight the sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered With broad and burning face. Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears! Are those her sails that glance in the sun, Like restless gossameres? Are those her ribs through which the sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that Woman all her crew? Is that a Death? and are there two? Is Death that Woman's mate? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy,

The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; `The game is done! I've won! I've won!' Quoth she, and whistles thrice. The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip! The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. One after one, by the star-dogged moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one. The souls did from their bodies fly, They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul it passed me by, Like the whizz of my crossbow!"

Part IV `I fear thee, ancient Mariner!

I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown.' "Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! This body dropped not down. Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie; And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay. I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; Forthe sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky, Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet. The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high;

But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. The moving moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red. Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. The selfsame moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea."

Part V

"Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from heaven, That slid into my soul. The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light -almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost. And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere. The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag,

A river steep and wide. The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do; They raised their limbs like lifeless tools We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me." `I fear thee, ancient Mariner!' "Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest: For when it dawned -they dropped their arms, And clustered round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed. Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the skylark sing;

Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe; Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath. Under the keel nine fathom deep, From the land of mist and snow, The spirit slid: and it was he That made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also. The sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean: But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound. How long in that same fit I lay, I have not to declare;

But ere my living life returned, I heard and in my soul discerned Two voices in the air. `Is it he?' quoth one, `Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.' The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, `The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.'

Part VI First Voice But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing? Second Voice Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him. First Voice

But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind? Second Voice The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! Or we shall be belated: For slow and slow that ship will go, When the Mariner's trance is abated. "I woke, and we were sailing on As in a gentle weather: 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high; The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray. And now this spell was snapped: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. But soon there breathed a wind on me,

Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze On me alone it blew. Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own country? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway. The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came. A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were: I turned my eyes upon the deck -

Oh, Christ! what saw I there! Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood! A man all light, a seraph-man, On every corse there stood. This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light; This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart. But soon I heard the dash of oars, I heard the Pilot's cheer; My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear. The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: Dear Lord in heaven! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third -I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood."

Part VII "This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears! He loves to talk with marineers That come from a far country.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve He hath a cushion plump: It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump. The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, `Why, this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now?' `Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said `And they answered not our cheer! The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.' `Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look (The Pilot made reply) I am afeared' -`Push on, push on!' Said the Hermit cheerily. The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred; The boat came close beneath the ship, And straight a sound was heard. Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reached the ship, it split the bay; The ship went down like lead. Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned

My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. Upon the whirl where sank the ship The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound. I moved my lips -the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit. I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. `Ha! ha!' quoth he, `full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.' And now, all in my own country, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man! The Hermit crossed his brow. `Say quick,' quoth he `I bid thee say What manner of man art thou?' Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woeful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns; And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns. I pass, like night, from land to land;

I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there: But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are; And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer! O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all." The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone; and now the Wedding-Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn.

The Rime of The Ancient Mariner"


About the Author
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834) was an English lyrical poet, critic, and philosopher, whose work, a book entitled Lyrical Ballads, contributed to the English Romantic movement. Samuel was born in the small, rural Devonshire town of Ottery St Mary in south-west England. The youngest son of the Church of England parish vicar, the boy started school in 1775. After his father's death Coleridge was sent away to Christ's Hospital School in London. The youngster was considered dreamy and eccentric by fellow schoolboys, in part because of his enthusiastic interest in metaphysics. In 1791 Coleridge entered Jesus College, but in spite of his scholastic achievements and great intelligence, he did not find the experience stimulating and left the university in 1794 without graduating. While attending the Jesus College, he became friends the radical Robert Southey. The two young men devised a scheme to emigrate to Pennsylvania and establish there an ideal democratic community, which they termed a Pantisocracy. The plan required the would-be immigrants to marry; thus Coleridge became engaged to Sara Fricker, whom he did not really love. Coleridges first published work, which appeared in 1796, was a collection of poems entitled Poems on Various Subjects (Literature Network). In that same year, he became acquainted with Dorothy and William Wordsworth. From their relationship resulted the Lyrical Ballads, which opened with Coleridges Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Over the next couple of years, Coleridge's health deteriorated. To dull the pain, doctors provided him with heavy dosages of laudanum, a narcotic. It is suggested that he may have become addicted to this drug; in any case he fell into a deep depression (Literature Guide). While in low spirits, Coleridge separated from his wife, Sara, and quarreled with Wordsworth. In 1816 Coleridge took up residence with a physician, James Gilman, in the northern suburbs of London. He prospered under Gilman's care, and entered his most sustained period of literary activity, which lasted until 1819 (Literature Guide). The final years of Coleridges life were peaceful. In 1825 he was named an associate of the Royal Society of Literature, and he and Wordsworth toured the Rhineland in 1828. During this time, Coleridge loved to entertain guests in his home. William Hazlitt, in My First Acquaintance with Poets, reported on Coleridge's habit of dazzling visitors with his observations on literature and philosophy. He became known as the 'Sage of Highgate', and his home was the meeting

place for the London literati (Literature Guide). Coleridge died in Highgate on July 25, 1834.

Background
"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was published in 1798 in the first edition of the Lyrical Ballads.Coleridge and his colleague William Wordsworth worked together on this poem. The latter did a lot of shaping of the plot but later withdrew to allow Coleridge to complete the writing. The poem itself set out to be a ballad with ghost stories and supernatural plot lines. Coleridge intentionally used outdated spellings and diction to keep the ballad atmosphere. He based tee poem on a historical narrative of a sailor who killed an albatross and then suffered through a severe storm. His work is said to have been inspired by several historical sources. One of them was James Cook's voayge of exploration of the South Seas and the Pacific Ocean from 1772 till 1775. On his voyage, Cook traveled around the Antartic Circle to determine whether the fabled continent existed. Another is Captain George Shelvocke's 1726 A Voyage 'Round the World, in which he describes how one of his shipmates shot an albatross that he believed had made the wind disappear (Gradesaver). The poem may also have been inspired by the legend of the Wandering Jew who was forced to wander the Earth until Judgement Day, for taunting Jesus on the day of the Crucifixion. Just like the mariner with the albatross hung around his neck, the Jew must wear a cross as a symbol of his guilt. Other sources claim that the poem was inspired by a dream of Coleridge's friend, Cruikshank, and still others believe that Coleridge wrote the strange, sensually-rich text under the influence of opium, as he did his famous "Kubla Khan." The poem received mixed reviews from critics, and Coleridge was once told by the publisher that most of the book's sales were to sailors who thought it was a naval songbook. Coleridge made several modifications to the poem over the years. In the second edition of Lyrical Ballads in 1800, he replaced many of the archaic words (Wikipedia). Coleridge is also known for other works such as "Frost at Midnight," "The Nightingale," "Kubla Khan," and "Dejection: An Ode."

Plot Summary
"The Rime of The Ancient Mariner" begins with a mariner meeting a man who is en route to a wedding ceremony. The mariner tells the man a story about the Mariners troublesome voyage, in which his ship is hit by a storm and driven south to Antarctica. While the ship is lost at sea, an albatross appears and begins to lead the ship to safety. To the crew's disappointment, the Mariner shoots the bird down, causing them to become angry at the Mariner, believing the albatross brought the South wind that led them out of Antarctica. However, their ire greatly lessens once the weather becomes warmer. The murder of the albatross enrages supernatural spirits who now turn the South wind that saved them into a wind that sends them back into dangerous waters. Upon this bad luck, the crew once again turns on the Mariner and blames him for their thirst. Metaphorically, the Mariner has a albatross around his neck. Later in the poem, the ship comes upon a ghost ship which contains both Death and Night-Mare Life-in-Death. The two figures are rolling dice for the souls of the crew. Death wins the life of the crew members, while the counterpart wins the life of the Mariner. This is an obvious foreshadowing of the Mariners

future as he will encounter a fate much worse than that of the crew, due to his murder of the albatross. Eventually, all of the crew members die off, but the Mariner lives on, having to see the curse in their eyes for seven days. Only when he finally sees the sea creatures as beautiful is the Mariners curse broken, and the metaphoric albatross falls from his neck. The bodies of the crew come back to life and begin to sail the ship home, where it sinks in a whirlpool, leaving only the Mariner behind. To make up for his deed, the Mariner must wander the earth and tell his story, in order to teach a lesson to those he meets.

Themes
The Natural World: The Physical : Coleridge emphasizes the immense power that nature has over man as well as its natural beauty. The Spiritual World: The Metaphysical : In an attempt to prove that the Albatross is a physical creature rather than simply a spiritual being, the mariner shoots it down, effectively killing it. There are also many allusions to the religion, the mariner preaching a closeness to God through prayer and through kindness and respect to all creatures. Liminability : (a place on the edge of two realms or between two realms) The liminal space in the Rime is the equator, which is the space between the north and south hemispheres. Immediately after crossing this border, the sailors encounter the storm which is what causes them to lose their way. Imprisonment : The boat is initially free on the wide seas, but as soon as the storm drives them off course they become surrounded by ice that is described as "mast high" and since they are unable to maneuver out of the ice that is blocking their way out, they are effectively trapped and their fates lie in the hands of nature. Retribution : Coleridge focuses on retribution with the mariner because he is destined to remain wandering throughout the world and recounting his story to those he meets simply due to the impulsive mistake that he made of shooting the albatross. The Act of Storytelling : Certain interruptions within the poem remind the reader that the mariner is recounting his story to a the Wedding Guest within the poem rather than just the reader.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Christabel, and Kubla Khan


Coleridge draft of the poem Kubla Khan

Coleridge is probably best known for his long poems, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Christabel. Even those who have never read the Rime have come under its influence: its words have given the English language the metaphor of an albatross around one's neck, the quotation of "water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink" (almost always rendered as "but not a drop to drink"), and the phrase "a sadder and a wiser man" (again, usually rendered as "sadder but wiser man"). The phrase "All creatures great and small" may have been inspired by The Rime: "He prayeth best, who loveth best;/ All things great and small;/ For the dear God who loveth us;/ He made and loveth all."Christabel is known for its musical rhythm, language, and its Gothic tale.

Kubla Khan, or, A Vision in a Dream, A Fragment, although shorter, is also widely known. Both Kubla Khan and Christabel have an additional "Romantic" aura because they were never finished. Stopford Brooke characterised both poems as having no rival due to their "exquisite metrical movement" and "imaginative phrasing."

The Trees like Tassels-hit-and swung Analysis


Author: Poetry of Emily Dickinson Type: Poetry Views: 162 The Trees like Tassels-hit-and swungThere seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun-Far Psalteries of SummerEnamoring the Ear They never yet did satisfyRemotest-when most fairThe Sun shone whole at intervalsThen Half-then utter hidAs if Himself were optional And had Estates of CloudSufficient to enfold Him Eternally from viewExcept it were a whim of His To let the Orchards grow-A Bird sat careless on the fenceOne gossipped in the Lane On silver matters charmed a Snake Just winding round a Stone-Bright Flowers slit a Calyx And soared upon a Stem Like Hindered Flags-Sweet hoistedWith Spices-in the Hem-'Twas more-I cannot mentionHow mean-to those that seeVandyke's Delineation Of Nature's-Summer Day!

||| Analysis | Critique | Overview Below |||


This poem by emily describes a summer day and also tells how the Sun appears and disappears behind the clouds who are so many in numbers that can enfold the sun till eternity. But the whimsical sun comes out at times to do the duty as to help the orchards grow, the birds and snakes and many other lives to sustain.

Dust Of Snow Analysis


Author: Poetry of Robert Frost Type: Poetry Views: 4343

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock treeHas given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

analysis Dust of snow is a beautiful poem written by the famous poet Robert Frost. Though the poem is very brief but has a significant meaning. this poem stands for guiding a person who has lost all hopes and is very sad. As in the poem, the falling of dust of snow has change the mood of the poet . The poet was sitting under a hemlock tree and was quit upset. The very small incident changed his sad mood into happy mood. So it teaches us that we should not be desperate but there is always an opportunity to change sad to happy mood. :)

The poem is about a suicidal character who changes their mind due to a random and seeminly unimportant event. Crow is a common symobl for death, as well as a hemlock tree (poison hemlock, which is also a allusion to Shakespeare\'s Hamlet in which Ophelia describes it). Rued also has two meanings here. One is the literal meaning, which is to bitterly regret. However, rue is also a woody herb that was commonly used for medicinal purposes, which appears to parallel the posion hemlock mentioned earlier. There ya go.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening


Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" (1923)


On a dark winter evening, the narrator stops his sleigh to watch the snow falling in the woods. At first he worries that the owner of the property will be upset by his presence, but then he remembers that the owner lives in town, and he is free to enjoy the beauty of the falling snow. The sleigh horse is confused by his masters behavior stopping far away from any farmhouse and shakes his harness bells in impatience. After a few more moments, the narrator reluctantly continues on his way. Analysis In terms of text, this poem is remarkably simple: in sixteen lines, there is not a single threesyllable word and only sixteen two-syllable words. In terms of rhythmic scheme and form, however, the poem is surprisingly complex. The poem is made up of four stanzas, each with four stressed syllables in iambic meter. Within an individual stanza, the first, second, and fourth lines rhyme (for example, know, though, and snow of the first stanza), while the third line rhymes with the first, second, and fourth lines of the following stanza (for example, here of the first stanza rhymes with queer, near, and year of the second stanza). One of Frosts most famous works, this poem is often touted as an example of his life work. As such, the poem is often analyzed to the minutest detail, far beyond what Frost himself intended for the short and simple piece. In reference to analyses of the work, Frost once said that he was annoyed by those pressing it for more than it should be pressed for. It means enough without its being pressedI dont say that somebody shouldnt press it, but I dont want to be there. The poem was inspired by a particularly difficult winter in New Hampshire when Frost was returning home after an unsuccessful trip at the market. Realizing that he did not have enough to buy Christmas presents for his children, Frost was overwhelmed with depression and stopped his

horse at a bend in the road in order to cry. After a few minutes, the horse shook the bells on its harness, and Frost was cheered enough to continue home. The narrator in the poem does not seem to suffer from the same financial and emotional burdens as Frost did, but there is still an overwhelming sense of the narrators unavoidable responsibilities. He would prefer to watch the snow falling in the woods, even with his horses impatience, but he has promises to keep, obligations that he cannot ignore even if he wants to. It is unclear what these specific obligations are, but Frost does suggest that the narrator is particularly attracted to the woods because there is not a farmhouse near. He is able to enjoy complete isolation. Frosts decision to repeat the final line could be read in several ways. On one hand, it reiterates the idea that the narrator has responsibilities that he is reluctant to fulfill. The repetition serves as a reminder, even a mantra, to the narrator, as if he would ultimately decide to stay in the woods unless he forces himself to remember his responsibilities. On the other hand, the repeated line could be a signal that the narrator is slowly falling asleep. Within this interpretation, the poem could end with the narrators death, perhaps as a result of hypothermia from staying in the frozen woods for too long. The narrators promises to keep can also be seen as a reference to traditional American duties for a farmer in New England. In a time and a place where hard work is valued above all things, the act of watching snow fall in the woods may be viewed as a particularly trivial indulgence. Even the narrator is aware that his behavior is not appropriate: he projects his insecurities onto his horse by admitting that even a work animal would think it queer.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Robert Frost


This entry represents criticism of Robert Frost's Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

INTRODUCTION
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening is generally regarded as Frost's masterpiece. The poem was included in Frost's collection New Hampshire (1923) for which he won the first of his four Pulitzer Prizes. It is Frost's most famous poem, and one which he himself viewed as his best bid for remembrance. It is also perhaps Frost's most frequently taught and anthologized poem. The speaker in the poem, a traveler by horse on the darkest night of the year, stops to gaze at a woods filling up with snow. While he is drawn to the beauty of the woods, he has obligations which pull him away from the allure of nature. The lyric quality of Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening can be heard in the enchanting final stanza: The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, / But I have promises to keep, / And miles to go before I sleep, / And miles to go before I sleep.

Plot and Major Characters

The speaker (presumably a man, although no gender is specified), while traveling on horseback (or in a horse-drawn sleigh) on the darkest evening of the year, stops to watch the woods fill up with snow. He thinks the owner of these woods is someone who lives in the village and will not see the speaker stopping on his property. While the speaker continues to gaze into the snowy woods, his little horse impatiently shakes the bells of its harness. The speaker describes the beauty and allure of the woods as lovely, dark, and deep, but reminds himself that he must not remain there, for he has promises to keep, and a long journey ahead of him.

Major Themes
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, like many of Frost's poems, explores the theme of the individual caught between nature and civilization. The speaker's location on the border between civilization and wilderness echoes a common theme throughout American literature. The speaker is drawn to the beauty and allure of the woods, which represent nature, but has obligationspromises to keepwhich draw him away from nature and back to society and the world of men. The speaker is thus faced with a choice of whether to give in to the allure of nature, or remain in the realm of society. Some critics have interpreted the poem as a meditation on deaththe woods represent the allure of death, perhaps suicide, which the speaker resists in order to return to the mundane tasks which order daily life.

Critical Reception
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening was included in Frost's volume New Hampshire, for which he won the first of four Pulitzer prizes. Critics generally agree that its central theme is the speaker's dilemma in choosing between the allure of nature and the responsibilities of everyday life in human society. However, the ambiguity of the poem has lead to extensive critical debate. Some conclude that the speaker chooses, by the end of the poem, to resist the temptations of nature and return to the world of men. Others, however, argue that the speaker's repetition of the last line And miles to go before I sleep, suggests an indecisiveness as to whether or not he will, in fact, keep the promises by which he is obligated to return to society. Many have pointed out that this ambiguity is in part what makes the poem great. Another standard interpretation is that the speaker is contemplating suicidethe woods, lovely, dark, and deep, represent the allure of death as a means of escape from the mundane duties of daily life. Still others, however, such as Philip L. Gerber, argue that Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening is most importantly a lyric poem, which should be appreciated in terms of its formal, metrical qualities, such as the complex, interlocking rhyme scheme, rather than its content or meaning. Gerber notes that Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening is widely regarded, metrically, as Frost's most perfect poem. Critics also point to the mood or tone of the poem, as created by its formal properties, as one of a person caught up in a reverie; the hypnotic quality of the repeated closing lines, in particular, suggests a chant or spell. James Hepburn noted that the inability of critics to secure a particular meaning of the poem is due to the quality by which It is a poem of undertones and overtones rather than of meaning. Critical debate over the meaning and significance of Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening rages on, but few question the status of the poem as one of the greatest in American literature. Donald J. Greiner has observed of Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening that Its deceptive simplicity, its ambiguity, and its interlocking rhyme scheme have been so lauded that it is now one of the most explicated

American poems. The extent to which this poem has been discussedperhaps overanalyzed by critics was indicated by the parodic interpretation of Herbert R. Coursen, Jr., who, tongue-incheek, surmised that the speaker is in fact none other than Santa Claus, the little horse who rings its harness bells representing a reindeer, and the darkest night of the year, during which the poem takes place, a reference to the winter solstice, which is only a few days before Christmas. According to this interpretation, the promises that the speaker must keep refer to Santa Claus's responsibility to deliver presents on Christmas Eve.

The Last Bargain


By Rabindranath Tagore "Come and hire me," I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road. Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot. He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power." But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.

In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors. I wandered along the crooked lane. An old man came out with his bag of gold. He pondered and said, "I will hire you with my money." He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away.

It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower. The fair maid came out and said, "I will hire you with a smile." Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark.

The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly. A child sat playing with shells. He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, "I hire you with nothing."

From thenceforward that bargain struck in child's play made me a free man.

Where The Mind Is Without Fear


Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls Where words come out from the depth of truth Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit Where the mind is led forward by thee Into ever-widening thought and action Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake

Critical Analysis of Rabindranath Tagores poem Where The Mind Is Without Fear

RabindranathTagore's writing is highly imagistic, deeply religious and imbibed with his love of nature and his homeland. RabindranathTagores poem, Where the Mind is Without Fear ,included in the volume called Naibedya, later published in English Gitanjali is a prayer to a universal father-figure, presumably, God to elevate his country into a free land. Here Tagore defines Freedom as a fundamental system of reasoning of a sovereign state of mind, established or accepted as a guide for governing the man in a nutshell. A freedom fixes the limits and defines the relations of the moral, ethical and powers of the state of mind, thus setting up the basis for life. The first line of the poem is one of the most significant sub clauses which go to build up the poem. The World of Freedom, which Tagore envisions for his countrymen, can only be attained if we possess a fearless mind. Only a fearless mind can hold its head upright. So attain true freedom one has to have a mind which is Without fear. Thus, the poet wishes to be awakened to a heaven where the mind can work fearlessly and the spirit can hold its head high and again its knowledge is crystal clear reasoning: Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free;

A free country means where one can acquire knowledge in all freedom of choice. The big world of man is fragmented or restricted to small mutually exclusive compartments. The poet preaches that our minds, instead of being engulfed in such prejudices and narrow superstitions, must be enriched by thoughts and actions, which are worthy and beneficial for the sake of the country:

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; Where words come out from the depth of truth;

In an ideal free country everybody speaks his/her heart clear, where actions flow in the form of various streams moving from success to success, where petty conventions do not stagnant the course of judgment. Tagore entertains a system of thought that emphasizes the role of reason in obtaining knowledge. He also emphasizes the role of experience, especially sense perception. Tagore also attempts to tie various perceptions of the world together in some way. The comparative study of variegated knowledge would led to the reconstruction of a hypothetical parent Ideal to account for striking similarities among the various perceptions of East and west: Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action

According to RabindranathTagore, attainment of ideal freedom was definitely an arduous but the most dreamy of situation in our country, in the preindependent India. Studies commissioned by Tagore did determine with near certainty that declining moral values reflect cultural bias in the country, in the sense that post independent India scores such bloodshed in the name of religion. Here, Tagore remains an accurate predictor of Indian sociology. One must possess a fearless mind with ones head hold high in self-esteem. Knowledge gained by the countrymen ought to be free from prejudices. The world should not become fragmented through internal strives and feuds. The mental make-up should be free from the superstitious, narrow and gloomy practices. The poet, finally, conceives of a situation, where the mind is guided by the Divine One to awaken ourselves from the errors of our commitments.

This poem in this selection has been taken from his English Gitanjali. Tagore had a very deep religious caste of mind and profound humanism. He was both a patriot and an internationalist. In the poem, Where The Mind Is Without Fear, Tagore sketches a moving picture of the nation he would like India to be. Where everyone within the fold of the brotherhood is free to hold up ones head high and ones voice to be heard without having any tension of fear of oppression or forced compulsion. Where the knowledge is not restricted by narrow ideas and loyalties. The British rule had robbed India of its pride and dignity by reducing it to a subject nation. The India of Tagores dream is a country where her people hold their heads high with their pride in knowledge and strength born of that knowledge. Where all countrymen must come out the aged-old world of people who have lost the vision of one humanity by the narrow loyalties of caste creed and religion. Prejudice and superstitious which narrow the mind and divide people would be a thing of the past. Where the words of truth come out from the depths of the heart and are spoken out courageously in the open for the world to hear. People would work for perfections in the clear light of reason leaving aside all superstitious ritual. Where everyone is free to toil and work hard for anything they desire either for their own or for the good of the nation. Everyone is encouraged to strive tirelessly till they attain full satisfaction in reaching their goals and perfection. Where blind superstitious habits of thought and action have not put out the light of reason. Where peoples mind should not dwell in the mistakes of the past nor be possessed by it. On the other hand they should be led by the power of reasoning to be focused on the future by applying scientific thought and action. Tagores only prayer to the Supreme Ultimate is leading the nation to such an ideal state of heaven. It is only by the universality of outlook and an abiding passion for the realization of great human ideals that India will achieve her true freedom. This way alone she will realize her destiny

Lovers Gifts by Rabindranath Tagore


05 Sep 2009 2 Comments

When the voice of the Silent touches my words. I know him and therefore know myself. Tagore Everyone knows about this great poet, song writer, painter and story teller. Gurudev has been an inspiration for me since childhood. Every poem, every story has left a deep impression. His poems are spiritual, sublime, simple and timeless at the same time. He was awarded Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913. I will be posting more of his work later. Enjoy these beautiful gems from his collection Lovers Gifts. Lovers Gifts LIV: In the Beginning of Time In the beginning of time, there rose from the churning of Gods dream two women. One is the dancer at the court of paradise, the desired of men, she who laughs and plucks the minds of the wise from their cold meditations and of fools from their emptiness; and scatters them like seeds with careless hands in the extravagant winds of March, in the flowering frenzy of May. The other is the crowned queen of heaven, the mother, throned on the fullness of golden autumn; she who in the harvest-time brings straying hearts to the smile sweet as tears, the beauty deep as the sea of silence, -brings them to the temple of the Unknown, at the holy confluence of Life and Death. Lovers Gifts XIII: Last Night in the Garden Last night in the garden I offered you my youths foaming wine. You lifted the cup to your lips, you shut your eyes and smiled while I raised your veil, unbound your tresses, drawing down upon my breast your face sweet with its silence, last night when the moons dream overflowed the world of slumber. To-day in the dew-cooled calm of the dawn you are walking to Gods temple, bathed and robed in white, with a basket full of flowers in your hand. I stand aside in the shade under the tree, with my head bent, in the calm of the dawn by the lonely road to the temple. Lovers Gifts XLVIII: I Traveled the Old Road I traveled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market, my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and

all the ways were well known to me. One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth heaved with the mirth of ripening rice. Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed to kiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out of mist. I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from the path, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flower I had only known in bud. My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairyland of things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path that morning, and found my eternal childhood. Lovers Gifts XXVIII: I Dreamt I dreamt that she sat by my head, tenderly ruffling my hair with her fingers, playing the melody of her touch. I looked at her face and struggled with my tears, till the agony of unspoken words burst my sleep like a bubble. I sat up and saw the glow of the Milky Way above my window, like a world of silence on fire, and I wondered if at this moment she had a dream that rhymed with mine.

Lover's Gifts II: Come to My Garden Walk


Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some chance joy, which like a sudden wonder of sunset illumines, yet elude. For lover's gift is shy, it never tells its name, it flits across the shade, spreading a shiver of joy along the dust. Overtake it or miss it for ever. But a gift that can be grasped is merely a frail flower, or a lamp with flame that will flicker.

The Bangle Sellers by Sarojini Naidu


Bangle sellers are we who bear Our shining loads to the temple fair... Who will buy these delicate, bright Rainbow-tinted circles of light? Lustrous tokens of radiant lives,

For happy daughters and happy wives. Some are meet for a maiden's wrist, Silver and blue as the mountain mist, Some are flushed like the buds that dream On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream, Some are aglow wth the bloom that cleaves To the limpid glory of new born leaves Some are like fields of sunlit corn, Meet for a bride on her bridal morn, Some, like the flame of her marriage fire, Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire, Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear, Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear. Some are purple and gold flecked grey For she who has journeyed through life midway, Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest, And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast, And serves her household in fruitful pride, And worships the gods at her husband's side

Analysis
. Naidu's poem explores the imagery associated with bangles and the implications for women's roles in a traditionalist Indian social setting. The bangle seller is trying to convince the purchasing public of the spiritual and symbolic importance of these bangles. In this process, the speaker makes strong connections between the bangles and their role in providing "happy daughters and happy wives." The subsequent stanzas describe through lush and natural imagery the beauty of the bangles and their representation of these ideals help to increase their precious value. Some of these descriptions invoke the passion of "marriage's fire" and, in the last stanza, help to bring to light the socially accepted role of women in this setting. The purple and gray flecked bangle is meant to symbolize a woman who "serves her household in fruitful pride,/And worships the gods at her husband's side." It is not very clear in the poem if the bangle seller is a man or a woman, and perhaps, some level of meaning might change if one plays with the gender of the speaker