English 2 assignment

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znevn24

Humanities

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Answer the following questions for "Porphyria's Lover," "He Wishes His Beloved Were Dead," and "An Old Story."

Since I usually read these in class, it's not cheating to listen to the long one on Youtube.

 What's the relationship between the murderer and his victim in each?

Why do they kill the victim in each?

What could be the theme of each?

What emotions are they trying to stir in the reader?

What are 3-5 ways ways they use different images and wording from each other to illustrate similar themes and evoke similar emotions?

Which was most effective and why?

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Porphyria's Lover Robert Browning. 1812–1889 The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900 Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. THE rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its worst to vex the lake: I listen'd with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneel'd and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm; Which done, she rose, and from her form Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl, And laid her soil'd gloves by, untied Her hat and let the damp hair fall, And, last, she sat down by my side And call'd me. When no voice replied, She put my arm about her waist, And made her smooth white shoulder bare, And all her yellow hair displaced, And, stooping, made my cheek lie there, And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair, Murmuring how she loved me—she Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour, To set its struggling passion free From pride, and vainer ties dissever, And give herself to me for ever. But passion sometimes would prevail, Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain 5 10 15 20 25 A sudden thought of one so pale For love of her, and all in vain: So, she was come through wind and rain. Be sure I look'd up at her eyes Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshipp'd me; surprise Made my heart swell, and still it grew While I debated what to do. That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laugh'd the blue eyes without a stain. And I untighten'd next the tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blush'd bright beneath my burning kiss: I propp'd her head up as before, Only, this time my shoulder bore 50 Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorn'd at once is fled, And I, its love, am gain'd instead! Porphyria's love: she guess'd not how Her darling one wish would be heard. And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirr'd, And yet God has not said a word! 30 35 40 45 55 60 Poet: William Butler Yeats Poem: He Wishes His Beloved Were Dead Volume: The Wind Among The Reeds Year: Published/Written in 1899 Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the West, You would come hither, and bend your head, And I would lay my head on your breast; And you would murmur tender words, Forgiving me, because you were dead: Nor would you rise and hasten away, Though you have the will of the wild birds, But know your hair was bound and wound About the stars and moon and sun: O would, beloved, that you lay Under the dock-leaves in the ground, While lights were paling one by one. Poet: Robert William Service Poem: An Old Story Volume: Songs of a Sun-Lover They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: "Last night you killed," they said. "last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death." "last night I killed," he moaned distraught, "When I was wild with wine; I slew, and I remember naught . . . O Mother, Mother mine! "To what unbridled rage may lead You taught me at your knew. Why did I not your warning heed . . . And now - the gallows tree. "O Mother, Mother, come to me, For I am sore distrest, And I would kneel beside your knee And weep upon your breast. . . ." They stared at him; their lips were dumb, Their eyes tear filled; Then spoke the Priest: "She cannot come . . . 'Twas she you killed."
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Explanation & Answer:
5 Questions
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Explanation & Answer

Attached.

1. What's the relationship between the murderer and his victim in each?

They are lovers in each.
2. Why do they kill the victim in each?

They kill their lovers out of selfishness, to feel superior and as a way of feeling domination.
3. What emotions are they trying to stir in...


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