Poetry Analysis

I. Poems often touch our feelings by conveying the poet's mood.  Take a look at the poem, Annabel Lee, by Edgar Allan Poe. 

II. You can tell many things about a poem, even if it is totally unfamiliar you. Read the poem below.  What can you can tell about this poem?

De kinderliefde

Mijn vader is mijn beste vrind;
Hij noemt mij steeds zijn lieve kind.
'k Ontzie hem, zonder bang te vreezen.
En ga ik huppend aan zijn zij',
Ook dan vermaakt en leert hij mij;
Er kan geen beter vader wezen!

Ik ben ook somtijds wel en stout,
Maar als hijn' ondeugd mij berouwt,
Dan wordt zijn liefde geen verwijt,
Ja zelfs, wanneer hij mij kastijdt,
Dan zie ik tranen in zijn oogen.
Zou ik, door ongehoorzaamheid,

Dan maken dat mijn vader schreit;
Zou ik hem zugten doejn en klagen;
Neen, als mijn jonkheid iets misdoet,
Dan val ik aanstonds hem te voet,
En zal aan God vergeving vragen.

Hieronymus van Alphen  (1746 - 1803)

 

III. Scan the Rhythm pattern and Rhyme scheme of the following poem:

His wondrous gifts of love are plenteous
They grow out of the dark, rich, fertile earth;
This monument He built and left to us
Upon us He bestowed it at our birth,
He charged us with the task to multiply
And cultivate the earth till it bear fruit,
But only one lone wish would He deny
That we should eat of the forbidden fruit;
But we succumbed, by serpent were beguiled
By yielding to temptation were made wise
Of good and evil, beautiful and vile
Then claimed the serpent took us by surprise;
From His amazing grace we quickly fell
Then from the paradise we were expelled .

- C. O. Burleson

 

1- What type of poem is this? __________________________________________________________

2- Identify the rhythm pattern. __________________________________________________________

3- Who is "HE" in the poem?  __________________________________________________________

4- To whom does "we" and "us" refer? __________________________________________________________

5- What famous place is pictured in this poem? ___________________________________________________________

6- List three images that provide clues that help you recognize this place

  • _______________________________________________________
  • _______________________________________________________
  • _______________________________________________________

7. Give this poem a title that captures the theme of the poem.

___________________________________________________________

 

IV.  Apply what you have studied to analyze the following poem.  Describe the elements found in the poem and explain how they add to your understanding of the poem.

The Raven

    ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
    Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
    As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
    "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door --
    Only this, and nothing more."
     
    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
    And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow; -- vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore --
    For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore --
    Nameless here for evermore.
     
    And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
    Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
    "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door --
    Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; --
    This it is, and nothing more,"
     
    Presently my heart grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
    "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
    That I scarce was sure I heard you" -- here I opened wide the door; --
    Darkness there, and nothing more.
     
    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
    Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
    This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore!"
    Merely this and nothing more.
     
    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
    Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
    Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore --
    Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; --
    'Tis the wind and nothing more!"
     
    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
    In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
    Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door --
    Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door --
    Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
     
    Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
    By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
    "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven.
    Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore --
    Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
     
    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
    Though its answer little meaning -- little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door --
    Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
    With such name as "Nevermore."
     
    But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
    That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing further then he uttered -- not a feather then he fluttered --
    Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before --
    On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
    Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
     
    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
    "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore --
    Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
    Of 'Never-nevermore.'"
     
    But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
    Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
    What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
    Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
     
    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
    To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion's velvet violet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
    But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
    She shall press, ah, nevermore!
     
    Then, methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
    Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
    Respite - respite and nepenthe from the memories of Lenore!
    Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
     
    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if bird or devil! --
    Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted --
    On this home by Horror haunted -- tell me truly, I implore --
    Is there -- is there balm in Gilead? -- tell me -- tell me, I implore!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
     
    "Prophet!' said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if bird or devil!
    By that Heaven that bends above us -- by that God we both adore --
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore --
    Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
     
    "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked upstarting --
    "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
    Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
     
    And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
    On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
    And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
    Shall be lifted -- nevermore.

    - Edgar Allan Poe  (Listen to The Raven)

V. Read and analyze the following poem.  

“I THINK I'LL BE"

I think I'll be a cloud this day anew
Through which the sun its warming rays shall pass
And cast its light upon each blade of grass
That glistens with refreshing morning dew;
Or should I be a bird with out-stretched wings
That glides along and then at once soars high
Creating graceful figures in the sky,
Or perch upon a limb and gently sing;
The songs of spring awaken in my heart
A joy so full and yearning to release
Itself into the world. The song of peace
And universal love I must impart
Yet as I sing the sweet serenity
Whispers, "It is a pleasure being me."

- C.O. Burleson

 

Now try to create your own poem with a similar rhythm.

More on Analyzing Poetry