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Robert Frost's poem:8

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18. Two Tramps in Mud Time Out of the mud two strangers came And caught me splitting wood in the yard, And one of them put me off my aim By hailing cheerily "Hit them hard!" I knew pretty well why he had dropped behind And let the other go on a way. I knew pretty well what he had in mind: He wanted to take my job for pay. Good blocks of oak it was I split, As large around as the chopping block; And every piece I squarely hit Fell splinterless as a cloven rock. The blows that a life of self-control Spares to strike for the common good, That day, giving a loose my soul, I spent on the unimportant wood. The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, A cloud comes over the sunlit arch, A wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March. A bluebird comes tenderly up to alight

Summary:Robert Frost: the Death of a hired man

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Mary, a firm wife, is waiting for her husband Warren. In this poem, we find a dramatic description of Mary’s attitude towards Silas. She appears to be very kind human being. She has pure sympathy for their servant Silas. Warren return and Mary presents news that Silas has just returned home. But warren becomes because of this information. Warren is frustrated because of his past experience. Because, during haying season, Silas quit his job and left Mary and warren. For that reason, warren does not want to take him back. But Mary requests to her husband to show kindness to their servant Silas. But warren is rather harsh and unforgiving towards Silas and does not to take him back in service. But we see the optimistic attitude of Mary. She tries to convince warren. She says that Silas is now powerless to move because of his age. He has fallen asleep beside the stove. But warren’s tone is almost sarcastic. But Mary is still trying to convince warren. Now she presents Silas’s good qualities

Free Text Robert Frost's Poem 7

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13. An Old Man's Winter Night All out of doors looked darkly in at him Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, That gathers on the pane in empty rooms. What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand. What kept him from remembering what it was That brought him to that creaking room was age. He stood with barrels round him -- at a loss. And having scared the cellar under him In clomping there, he scared it once again In clomping off; -- and scared the outer night, Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar Of trees and crack of branches, common things, But nothing so like beating on a box. A light he was to no one but himself Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what, A quiet light, and then not even that. He consigned to the moon, such as she was, So late-arising, to the broken moon As better than the sun in any case For such a charge, his snow upon the roof, His icicles along the wall to keep; And slept. The lo

Free Text Robert Frost's Poem 6

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12. A Servant To Servants I didn't make you know how glad I was To have you come and camp here on our land. I promised myself to get down some day And see the way you lived, but I don't know! With a houseful of hungry men to feed I guess you'd find.... It seems to me I can't express my feelings any more Than I can raise my voice or want to lift My hand (oh, I can lift it when I have to). Did ever you feel so? I hope you never. It's got so I don't even know for sure Whether I am glad, sorry, or anything. There's nothing but a voice-like left inside That seems to tell me how I ought to feel, And would feel if I wasn't all gone wrong. You take the lake. I look and look at it. I see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water. I stand and make myself repeat out loud The advantages it has, so long and narrow, Like a deep piece of some old running river Cut short off at both ends. It lies five miles Straight away through the mountain notch From the sink window whe

Free Text Robert Frost's Poem 5

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10. The Pasture I'm going out to clean the pasture spring; I'll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear, I may): I shan't be gone long. -- You come too. I'm going out to fetch the little calf That's standing by the mother. It's so young, It totters when she licks it with her tongue. I shan't be gone long. -- You come too. 11. Home Burial He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. She took a doubtful step and then undid it To raise herself and look again. He spoke Advancing toward her: "What is it you see From up there always? -- for I want to know." She turned and sank upon her skirts at that, And her face changed from terrified to dull. He said to gain time: "What is it you see?" Mounting until she cowered under him. "I will find out now -- you must tell me, dear." She, in her place, refused him a

Income from Bangladesh

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Robert Frosts Poem 4:The Death of a hired man

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the rest of :''The Death of a hired man He jumbled everything. I stopped to look Two or three times—he made me feel so queer— To see if he was talking in his sleep. He ran on Harold Wilson—you remember— The boy you had in haying four years since. He’s finished school, and teaching in his college. Silas declares you’ll have to get him back. He says they two will make a team for work: Between them they will lay this farm as smooth! The way he mixed that in with other things. He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft On education—you know how they fought All through July under the blazing sun, Silas up on the cart to build the load, Harold along beside to pitch it on.” “Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot.” “Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream. You wouldn’t think they would. How some things linger! Harold’s young college boy’s assurance piqued him. After so many years he still keeps finding Good arguments he sees he might have used. I sympathise. I know ju

Robert Frosts Poem 4:The Death of a hired man

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The Death of a hired man MARY sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step, She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage To meet him in the doorway with the news And put him on his guard. “Silas is back.” She pushed him outward with her through the door And shut it after her. “Be kind,” she said. She took the market things from Warren’s arms And set them on the porch, then drew him down To sit beside her on the wooden steps. “When was I ever anything but kind to him? But I’ll not have the fellow back,” he said. “I told him so last haying, didn’t I? ‘If he left then,’ I said, ‘that ended it.’ What good is he? Who else will harbour him At his age for the little he can do? What help he is there’s no depending on. Off he goes always when I need him most. ‘He thinks he ought to earn a little pay, Enough at least to buy tobacco with, So he won’t have to beg and be beholden.’ ‘All right,’ I say, ‘I can’t afford to pay Any fixed wages, though I wish I

Free Text: Robert Frost's Poem 3

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7. Birches When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.T hey are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground, Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was

Free Text: Poetry: Robert Frost's poem 2

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3. The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way,I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. 4. Spring Pools These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not out by an

Bangladesh National University Syllabus

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Bangladesh National University Syllabus: MA(Final)-English Session from:2005-2006(New syllabus) Course Description: Subject Code---- Subject---------------------Unit -----Marks 1151 ---------Chaucer and Shakespeare------1.0---- ---100 1152 ---------Modern Poetry ----------------1.0------- 100 1153--------- Modern Drama ----------------1.0------- 100 1154--------- Modern Novel and Prose ------1.0-------- 100 1180 ---------Tutorial -----------------------0.5------ --50 1190 ---------Viva ---------------------------0.5 --------50 Total----------------------------------------- 5.0 --------500 Detailed Syllabus: Subject Code-1151: Chaucer and Shakespeare 1. Chaucer-The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, The Nuns Priests Tale, Troilus and Cresyde 2.Shakespeare-Hamlet, Othello, king lear, Tempest, Measure for Measure Books Recommended: 1W.P. Kerr,Medieval English Literature 2N.G. Coghill,The Poet Chaucer 3C.S. Lewis,The Allegory of Love 4M. Bowden,A Commentary on the General Prologue to the Ca

Blog sitemap

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1..Robert Frost,s Poem( Under Bangladesh National University)

1.Tree At My Window West-running Brook1928Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.Vague dream head lifted out of the ground, And thing next most diffuse to cloud, Not all your light tongues talking aloud Could be profound.But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed, And if you have seen me when I slept, You have seen me when I was taken and swept And all but lost.That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather. 2. The Tuft of Flowers I went to turn the grass once after one Who mowed it in the dew before the sun. The dew was gone that made his blade so keen Before I came to view the levelled scene. I looked for him behind an isle of trees; I listened for his whetstone on the breeze. But he had gone his way, the grass all mown, And I must be, as he had been,—alone, As all must be,' I said within my heart, Whet

National University MA (Final) Private Registration Begun:-

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National University MA (Final) Private Registration Begun:-

The rest of W.H.Audens Poems

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11. On This Island Look, stranger, on this island now The leaping light for your delight discovers, Stand stable here And silent be, That through the channels of the ear May wander like a river The swaying sound of the sea. Here at the small field’s ending pause When the chalk wall falls to the foam and its tall ledges Oppose the pluck And knock of the tide, And the shingle scrambles after the suck- ing surf, And the gull lodges A moment on its sheer side. Far off like floating seeds the ships Diverge on urgent voluntary errands. And the full view Indeed may enter And move in memory as now these clouds do, That pass the harbour mirror And all the summer through the water saunter. 12.Their Lonely Betters As I listened from a beach – chair in the shade To all the noises that my garden made, It seemed to me only proper that words Should be withheld from vegetables and birds. A robin with no Christian name ran through The Robin- Anthem which was all it knew, And rustling fl

TEXT- Poetry: W.H.AUDEN

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W.H.AUDEN's POEMS ( NATIONAL UNIVERSITY Syllabus) 1. Petition Sir, no man's enemy, forgiving all But will his negative inversion, be prodigal: Send to us power and light, a sovereign touch Curing the intolerable neural itch, The exhaustion of weaning, the liar's quinsy, And the distortions of ingrown virginity. Prohibit sharply the rehearsed response And gradually correct the coward's stance; Cover in time with beams those in retreat That, spotted, they turn though the reverse were great; Publish each healer that in city lives Or country houses at the end of drives; Harrow the house of the dead; look shining at New styles of architecture, a change of heart. 2. For What As Easy For what as easy For what thought small, For what is well Because between, To you simply From me I mean. Who goes with who The bedclothes say, As I and you Go kissed away, The data given, The senses even. Fate is not late, Nor the speech rewritten, N