Paper #3 PoetryPoetry Paper PromptPaper #3: Poetry Write an essay [on any of the recent poems] in which you discuss some element[s] of the poem: [see poetic elements from handout], compare two poems, or write a comparison of the poem to a short story. In order to write effectively about poetry, one needs a clear idea of what the point of writing about poetry is. The goal is to create a specific “thesis” about the poem/poems [what you believe is true], and quote from lines of the poem to support your thesis.Remember, one of the best ways to write about poetry is to write a stanza-by-stanza analysis [part by part]. Write a body paragraph for each stanza in the poem—analyze it. Things to write about:Theme: One place to start when writing about poetry is to look at any significant themes that emerge in the poetry. Does the poetry deal with themes related to love, death, sickness, inspiration, beauty? Any other concepts? What other themes show up in the poem? Are there particular historical events that are mentioned in the poem? Or ”alluded” to [allusion]? What are the most important concepts that are addressed in the poem? Consider Whitman and Victor Hugo in this regard.Setting and Situation: poems are often set somewhere, in a certain context, and the speaker of the poem is undergoing some kind of dramatic “situation.” Discuss any one or more of the poems we’ve studied in relation to situation/setting. Why is it important to consider the situation? Does it have anything to do with the larger idea behind the poem? Classical versus Romantic in poems. Is the poem written more in a “classical” style or is it more in the “romantic” style? See “poetry elements” handout on e-companion for more info on this.Denotation/Connotation: What is the poem literally about [denotation] and what does it seem to symbolize? [connotation]. The denotative reading of a poem looks at the actual events of the poem [a man crosses a bridge]. A connotative look at a poem looks for the symbolism [crossing the bridge represents his movement out of his past and into his future, for example].Versification: See handout (Links to an external site.) on the subject [“Patterns of Rhythm”]. Write about the rhythms, meter, verse.Figures of speech: Are there literary devices being used that affect how you read the poem? Here are some examples of commonly discussed figures of speech [see handout]: Symbols: where are the symbols and what do they represent, specifically? Symbol: an object or event that suggests something beyond its literal meaning.Metaphor: comparison between two unlike things—using a vehicle to represent a concept.Simile: comparison between two unlike things using "like" or "as"Metonymy: one thing stands for something else that is closely related to it (For example, using the phrase "the crown" to refer to the king would be an example of metonymy, or “White House” for government.) Synechdoche: a part stands in for a whole (For example, in the phrase "all hands on deck," "hands" stands in for the people in the ship's crew; or new “set of wheels” to refer to a car.) Personification: a non-human thing is endowed with human characteristics. Irony: a difference between surface meaning of the words and implications that may be drawn from them. Allusion: reference to historical or literary eventsAlliteration: the repeated use of consonant sounds [see handout]Assonance: the repeated use of vowel sounds [see handout]Cultural Context: How does the poem you are looking at relate to the historical context in which it was written? These questions may take you out of the literature section of your library altogether and involve finding out about philosophy, history, religion, economics, music, or the visual arts.Historical context: Consider the time in which the poem was written. Does this have any affect on the content [meaning] of the poem?Biographical context: Consider using biography as a starting point and write a paper in which you discuss the poem in relation to the author’s life. What was the author like? Does the poem represent his/her life?The paper is 3-4 pages, typed, double spaced. Good luck!POETRY: Whitman Out of the Cradle Endlessly RockingWhitman Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking"You cannot really understand America without Walt Whitman, without Leaves of Grass ... He has expressed that civilization, 'up to date,' as he would say, and no student of the philosophy of history can do without him." ---Mary Smith Whitall Costelloe1OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking (Links to an external site.), Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle (Links to an external site.), Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot, Down from the shower’d halo, 5Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive, Out from the patches of briers and blackberries, From the memories of the bird that chanted to me, From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard, From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears, 10From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist, From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease, From the myriad thence-arous’d words, From the word stronger and more delicious than any, From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting, 15As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing, Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly, A man—yet by these tears a little boy again, Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves, I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, 20Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them, A reminiscence sing. 2Once, Paumanok, When the snows had melted—when the lilac-scent was in the air (Links to an external site.), and the Fifth-month grass was growing, Up this sea-shore, in some briers, 25Two guests from Alabama—two together, And their nest, and four light-green eggs, spotted with brown, And every day the he-bird, to and fro, near at hand, And every day the she-bird, crouch’d on her nest, silent, with bright eyes, And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never disturbing them, 30Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating. 3Shine! shine! shine! Pour down your warmth, great Sun! While we bask—we two together. Two together! 35Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains from home, Singing all time, minding no time, While we two keep together (Links to an external site.). 40 4Till of a sudden, May-be kill’d, unknown to her mate, One forenoon the she-bird crouch’d not on the nest, Nor return’d that afternoon, nor the next, Nor ever appear’d again. 45 And thenceforward, all summer, in the sound of the sea, And at night, under the full of the moon, in calmer weather, Over the hoarse surging of the sea, Or flitting from brier to brier by day, I saw, I heard at intervals, the remaining one, the he-bird, 50The solitary guest from Alabama. 5Blow! blow! blow! Blow up, sea-winds, along Paumanok’s shore! I wait and I wait, till you blow my mate to me. 6Yes, when the stars glisten’d, 55All night long, on the prong of a moss-scallop’d stake, Down, almost amid the slapping waves, Sat the lone singer, wonderful, causing tears. He call’d on his mate; He pour’d forth the meanings which I, of all men, know. 60 Yes, my brother, I know; The rest might not—but I have treasur’d every note; For once, and more than once, dimly, down to the beach gliding, Silent, avoiding the moonbeams, blending myself with the shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, 65The white arms out in the breakers tirelessly tossing, I, with bare feet, a child, the wind wafting my hair, Listen’d long and long. Listen’d, to keep, to sing—now translating the notes, Following you, my brother. 70 7Soothe! soothe! soothe! Close on its wave soothes the wave behind, And again another behind, embracing and lapping, every one close, But my love soothes not me, not me. Low hangs the moon—it rose late; 75O it is lagging—O I think it is heavy with love, with love. O madly the sea pushes, pushes upon the land, With love—with love. O night! do I not see my love fluttering out there among the breakers? What is that little black thing I see there in the white? 80 Loud! loud! loud! Loud I call to you, my love! High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves; Surely you must know who is here, is here; You must know who I am, my love. 85 Low-hanging moon! What is that dusky spot in your brown yellow? O it is the shape, the shape of my mate! O moon, do not keep her from me any longer. Land! land! O land! 90Whichever way I turn, O I think you could give me my mate back again, if you only would; For I am almost sure I see her dimly whichever way I look. O rising stars! Perhaps the one I want so much will rise, will rise with some of you. O throat! O trembling throat (Links to an external site.)! 95Sound clearer through the atmosphere! Pierce the woods, the earth; Somewhere listening to catch you, must be the one I want. Shake out, carols! Solitary here—the night’s carols! 100Carols of lonesome love! Death’s carols! Carols under that lagging, yellow, waning moon! O, under that moon, where she droops almost down into the sea! O reckless, despairing carols. But soft! sink low; 105Soft! let me just murmur; And do you wait a moment, you husky-noised sea; For somewhere I believe I heard my mate responding to me, So faint—I must be still, be still to listen; But not altogether still, for then she might not come immediately to me. 110 Hither, my love! Here I am! Here! With this just-sustain’d note I announce myself to you; This gentle call is for you, my love, for you. Do not be decoy’d elsewhere! 115That is the whistle of the wind—it is not my voice; That is the fluttering, the fluttering of the spray; Those are the shadows of leaves. O darkness! O in vain! O I am very sick and sorrowful. 120 O brown halo in the sky, near the moon, drooping upon the sea! O troubled reflection in the sea! O throat! O throbbing heart! O all—and I singing uselessly, uselessly all the night. Yet I murmur, murmur on (Links to an external site.)! 125O murmurs—you yourselves make me continue to sing, I know not why. O past! O life! O songs of joy (Links to an external site.)! In the air—in the woods—over fields; Loved! loved! loved! loved! loved! But my love no more, no more with me (Links to an external site.)! 130We two together no more. 8The aria sinking; All else continuing—the stars shining, The winds blowing—the notes of the bird continuous echoing (Links to an external site.), With angry moans the fierce old mother incessantly moaning (Links to an external site.), 135On the sands of Paumanok’s shore, gray and rustling; The yellow half-moon enlarged, sagging down, drooping, the face of the sea almost touching; The boy extatic—with his bare feet the waves, with his hair the atmosphere dallying, The love in the heart long pent, now loose, now at last tumultuously bursting, The aria’s meaning, the ears, the Soul, swiftly depositing, 140The strange tears down the cheeks coursing, The colloquy there—the trio—each uttering, The undertone—the savage old mother, incessantly crying, To the boy’s Soul’s questions sullenly timing—some drown’d secret hissing, To the outsetting bard of love. 145 9Demon or (Links to an external site.) bird! (said the boy’s soul,) Is it indeed toward your mate you sing? or is it mostly to me? For I, that was a child, my tongue’s use sleeping, Now I have heard you, Now in a moment I know what I am for—I awake, 150And already a thousand singers—a thousand songs, clearer, louder and more sorrowful than yours, A thousand warbling echoes have started to life within me, Never to die. O you singer, solitary (Links to an external site.), singing by yourself—projecting me; O solitary me, listening—nevermore shall I cease perpetuating you; 155Never more shall I escape, never more the reverberations, Never more the cries of unsatisfied love be absent from me, Never again leave me to be the peaceful child I was before what there, in the night, By the sea, under the yellow and sagging moon, The messenger there arous’d (Links to an external site.)—the fire, the sweet hell within, 160The unknown want, the destiny of me. O give me the clew (Links to an external site.)! (it lurks in the night here somewhere;) O if I am to have so much, let me have more! O a word! O what is my destination? (I fear it is henceforth chaos;) O how joys, dreads, convolutions, human shapes, and all shapes, spring as from graves around me! 165O phantoms! you cover all the land and all the sea! O I cannot see in the dimness whether you smile or frown upon me; O vapor, a look, a word! O well-beloved! O you dear women’s and men’s phantoms! A word then, (for I will conquer it,) 170The word final, superior to all, Subtle, sent up—what is it?—I listen; Are you whispering it, and have been all the time, you sea-waves? Is that it from your liquid rims and wet sands? 10Whereto (Links to an external site.) answering, the sea, 175Delaying not, hurrying not, Whisper’d me through the night, and very plainly before day-break, Lisp’d to me (Links to an external site.) the low and delicious word DEATH; And again Death—ever Death, Death, Death, Hissing melodious, neither like the bird, nor like my arous’d child’s heart, 180But edging near, as privately for me, rustling at my feet, Creeping thence steadily up to my ears, and laving me softly all over (Links to an external site.), Death, Death, Death, Death, Death. Which I do not forget, But fuse the song of my dusky demon and brother (Links to an external site.), 185That he sang to me (Links to an external site.) in the moonlight on Paumanok’s gray beach, With the thousand responsive songs, at random, My own songs, awaked from that hour; And with them the key, the word up from the waves, The word of the sweetest song, and all songs, 190That strong and delicious word which, creeping to my feet, The sea whisper’d me.