130 likes | 453 Views
M eter. Anapest (da-da-DUM): Twas the night Dactyl (DA-da- dum ): Half a league Iamb (da-DUM-da-DUM): When I was one and twen ty Spondee (da- dum ): By the shore of Git che Gu mee Trochee (DA- dum ): Why so pale and wan , fond Lover ? . Stanzas. Couplets: 2 verses
E N D
Meter • Anapest (da-da-DUM): Twas the night • Dactyl (DA-da-dum): Half a league • Iamb (da-DUM-da-DUM): When I was one and twenty • Spondee (da-dum): By the shore ofGitcheGumee • Trochee (DA-dum): Why so pale and wan, fondLover?
Stanzas • Couplets: 2 verses • Tercets: 3 verses • Quatrains: 4 verses • Sestets: 6 verses • Octaves: 8 verses
Genres • Ballad: Narrative, song-like poem • Elegy: A mournful, melancholy, or plaintive poem • Epigram: short, witty poem expressing a single thought or observation. A concise, clever, often paradoxical statement • Lyric: A poem that expresses personal feelings and emotions
Blank verse • Unrhymed iambic pentameter. EARTH, Ocean, Air, belovèd brotherhood! If our great Mother has imbued my soul With aught of natural piety to feel Your love, and recompense the boon with mine; If dewy morn, and odorous noon, and even, With sunset and its gorgeous ministers, And solemn midnight's tingling silentness; If Autumn's hollow sighs in the sere wood,
Free verse • Poetry without a defined form, meter, or rhyme scheme. And then went down to the ship. Set keel to breakers, forth on the godly sea, and We set up mast and sail on that swart ship, Bore sheep aboard her, and our bodies also Heavy with weeping, and winds from sternward Bore us out onward with bellying canvas, Circe’s this craft, the trim-coifed goddess.
Tone v. Mood • Tone: The attitude toward a subject conveyed by the author. It can be happy, sad, sarcastic, etc. Not an explicit description, rather an emotional/moral climate. Helps reader establish relationship with writer’s characters or ideas. • Mood: The feeling or atmosphere as perceived by the reader: the emotions you feel while reading. The setting, images, details all help to create the mood.
He was forced into a seedy, filthy, dimly-lit pub • As she walked down the street, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder repeatedly. • The party trudged for miles, unaware of the vultures flying overhead. • The twins opened their gifts beneath the smiling guests.
Epic • Lengthy, elevated, narrative poem that celebrates the exploits of a hero. Then Beowulf came as king this broad realm to wield; and he ruled it well fifty winters, a wise old prince, warding his land, until One began in the dark of night, a Dragon, to rage. In the grave on the hill a hoard it guarded, in the stone-barrow steep. A strait path reached it, unknown to mortals.
Ode • Formal, lengthy poem that celebrates a particular subject. O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes! O thou Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
Sonnet • A 14-line poem with a prescribed rhyme scheme in iambic pentameter.
An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,-- Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn,--mud from a muddy spring,-- Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know, But leech-like to their fainting country cling, Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow,-- A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field,-- An army, which liberticide and prey Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield,-- Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay; Religion Christless, Godless--a book sealed; A Senate,--Time's worst statute unrepealed,-- Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may Burst, to illumine our tempestous day.
Villanelle • A highly structured poetic form that comprises six stanzas: 5 tercets and a quatrain. The poem repeats the first and third lines throughout.
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.