Monday 11 March poem selection

  
In class: Looking at realist poetry
Homework: Ethan Frome- As stated last week, make sure you have read through chapter 5 for class tomorrow.
 (poem) War is Kind by Stephen Crane
    (poem) Think as I Think by Stephen Crane
     (poem) Richard Cory by Edwin Arlington Robinson

War Is Kind  Stephen Crane (1899)

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind,
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.

 Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment,

Little souls who thirst for fight,

These men were born to drill and die.

The unexplained glory flies above them.

Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom--
A field where a thousand corpses lie.

Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.
Because your father tumbles in the yellow trenches,
Raged at his breast, gulped and died,
Do not weep.
War is kind.

 Swift blazing flag of the regiment,

Eagle with crest of red and gold,

These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses lie.

 Mother whose heart hung humble as a button

On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind!

The Wayfarer
The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly overgrown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."

Think as I Think

"Think as I think," said a man,
"Or you are abominably wicked;
You are a toad."
And after I had thought of it,
I said, "I will then, be a toad."

Richard Corey http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwqwAy85CgY&feature=fvsr  or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euuCiSY0qYs

WHENEVER Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,	5
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:	10
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,	15
Went home and put a bullet through his head.