Tutoring 10.6/2014 Question: Alan Seeger’s poem “Rendezvous”. Does the rest of the poem follow the meter that we identified there? What words in the poem are emphasized as a result of this meter? What other elements of this poem stand out to you? Please consider the following: rhyme, imagery, sound patterns, and repetition. How do these elements work together with the rhythm of the poem to create its meaning? Poem: Rendez Vous of Alan Seeger 1888-1916 I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air— I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my eyes and quench my breath— It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death On some scarred slope of battered hill, When Spring comes round again this year And the first meadow-flowers appear. God knows ‘twere better to be deep Pillowed in silk and scented down, Where love throbs out in blissful sleep, Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, Where hushed awakenings are dear... But I’ve a rendezvous with Death At midnight in some flaming town, When Spring trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous. Tutoring 7-2 Question: Scan the peom “My Papa’s Waltz” (p. 253). What is the meter? Use the process of identifying accented and unaccented syllables, breaking a pattern down into feet,. How does the rhythm of the poem work together with the meaning? Is this poem a light-hearted one? How does the rhythm work together with the imagery in the poem Poem: My Papa’s Waltz BY THEODORE ROETHKE 1908–1963 The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother’s countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt
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