Suggestion Reading Skill for 1st Year 2019
Reading Skill
for 1st Year
Part-C:
No Second Troy
W B Yeats
Why should I blame her that she
filled my days
With misery, or that she would of
late
Have taught to ignorant men most
violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon
the great,
Had they but courage equal to
desire?
What could have made her peaceful
with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a
fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow,
a kind
That is not natural in an age like
this,
Being high and solitary and most
stern?
Why, what could she have done,
being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to
burn?
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Delight in
Disorder
Robert Herrick
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness;
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;
An erring lace, which here and
there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly;
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat;
A careless shoe-string, in whose
tie
Is too precise in every part.
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Aunt
Jennifer’s tigers
Adrienne Rich
Aunt
Jennifer’s tigers prance across a screen,
Bright topaz
denizens of a world of green.
They do not
fear the men beneath the tree;
They pace in
sleek chivalric certainty.
Aunt
Jennifer’s fingers fluttering through her wool
Find even the
ivory needle hard to pull.
The massive
weight of Uncle’s wedding band
Sits heavily
upon Aunt Jennifer’s hand.
When Aunt is
dead, her terrified hands will lie
Still ringed
with ordeals she was mastered by.
The tigers in
the panel that she made
Will go on prancing, proud and
unafraid.
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To Autumn
John Keats
Season
of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close
bosom- friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring
with him how to load and bless
With
fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To
bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And
fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To
swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells.
With
a sweet Kernel; to set budding more,
And
still more, later flowers for the bess,
Until
they think warm days will never cease,
For
summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
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Sonnet-18
W.
Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s
day?
Thou art more lovely and move
temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling
buds of May.
And summers, lease hath all too
short a date:
Sometime, too hot the eye of
heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion
dimmed.
And every fair from fair sometime
declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing
course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not
fade.
Nor lose possession of that fair
thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou
wand’rest in his shaed,
When in eternal lines to time thou
growst,
So long as men can breathe or eyes
can see,
So long lives this, and this gives
life to thee.
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Daffodils
W. Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and
hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Reside the lake, beneath the
trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the
breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never ending
line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly
dance.
The
waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did
the sparkling waves in glee:
A
poet could not but gay,
In
such a jocund company:
I
gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What
wealth the show to me had brought.
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Where the
mind is without fear
Rabindranath
Tagore
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 the heaven of freedom, my
Father, let my country awake.
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Stopping by Woods
Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I
know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping there
To watch his woods fill up with
snow.
My little horse must think it
queen
To stop without a farm house 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 l have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
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Sonnet-43
Elezabeth
Barett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count
the ways.
I love thee to the depth and
breath and height
My soul can reach, when feeling
out of sight
For the ends of Being and Ideal
Grace.
I love thee to the level of
everyday’s
Most
quite need, by sun and candlelight.
I
love thee freely, as men strive for Right
I
love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I
love thee with the passion put to use
In
my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith
I
love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With
my lost saints,-I love thee with the
breath,
Smiles,
tears of all my life!—and, if God choose
I
shall but love thee better after death.
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Ozymandias
P
B Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique
land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless
legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on
the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage
lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of
cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those
passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on
these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the
heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words
appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of
kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and
despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the
decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless
and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch
far away.
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When your are
old
W B Yeats
When your are old and grey and
full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down
this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the
soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their
shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of
glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love
false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul
in you,
And loved the sorrows of your
changing face;
And bending down beside the
glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love
fled
An paced upon the mountains
overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of
stars.
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To Daffodils
Robert Herrick
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon:
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon.
Stay, stay until the hasting day
But to the evensong;
And go with you along.
We have short time to stay as you;
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you or anything.
We die, as your hours do, and dry
Away
Like the summer’s rain;
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
Ne’er to be found again.
-------------------
“Let not Ambition mock their
useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny
obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a
disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the
poor.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of
power.
And all that beauty, all that
wealth e’er gave,
Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour:-
The paths of glory lead but to the
grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these
the fault
If Memory o’er their tomb no
trophies raise,
Where through the long-drawn aisle
and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note
of praise.”
----------------------------------------------------------- -
Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just
Ourselves—
And Immortality.
We slowly drove-He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility-
We passed the School, where
Children strove
At Recess-in the Ring-
We passed the Fields of Gazing
Grain-
We passed the Setting Sun-
Or rather-He passed Us-
The Dews drew quivering and chill-
For only Gossamer, my Gown-
My Tippet-only Tulle-
We paused before a House that
seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice-in the Ground—
Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—
----------------------------------------------------
When your are old and grey and
full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down
this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the
soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their
shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of
glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love
false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul
in you,
And loved the sorrows of your
changing face;
And bending down beside the
glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love
fled
And paced upon the mountains
overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of
stars. -
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The Good Morrow
John Donne
I wonder by my troth, what thou,
and I
Did, till we lov’d? were we not
wean’d till then?
But suck’d on countrey pleasures,
childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven
sleepers’ den?
‘Twas so; but this, all pleasures
fancies bee.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desir’d, and got, ‘twas
but a dreame of thee.
And now good morrow to our waking soules,
Which watch not one another out of
feare;
For love, all love of other sights
controules,
And makes one little roome an
everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds
have gone,
Let Maps to other, worlds on
worlds have showne,
Let us possesse one world, each
hath one, and is one.
My face in thine eye, thine in
mine appears,
And true plaine hearts doe in thy
faces rest,
Where can we finde two better
hemispheres
Without sharp North, without
declining West?
Whatever dyes, was not mix’d
equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou
and I
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.
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1. Write
the summary of the
poem.
2. Describe
the setting and the
atmosphere of the poem.
3. Make
a note on the imagery
in the poem.
4. Analyse
the rhyme scheme of
the poem.
5. How
are the mood and tone
of the poet?
6. Comment
on the figures of speech
used in the portion of the poem.
7. What picture of village life
do you find in the poem?
8. Write
the meaning of the
following words in English:
Molest, plod, lull, solemn, stillness, landscape, heap cell, turf,
drowsy.
9. Explain
the central theme
of the poem.
10.
Explain what does the poet mean by “where knowledge is free”?
11.
Evaluate the poem as a sonnet/dramatic monologue/epic/metaphysical
poem/love poem/treatment of chealhood/death.
12. Explain the following 2
lines-
1.
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