English 207Q Studies in Poetry
Metaphors and Similes (all pages keyed to Seagull Reader)
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long withdrawing roar,
(Arnold Dover Beach ll. 21-5, p. 13)
For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth.
(Auden In Memory of W. B. Yeats ll. 36-42, p. 17)
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wall paper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
(Bishop The Fish ll. 10-15, p. 19)
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
(Blake The Tyger ll. 17-18, p. 26)
The heart, no valentine,
decides to quit after lunch,
the power shut off like a switch,
or a tiny dark ship is unmoored
into the flow of the body's rivers,
the brain a monastery,
defenseless on the shore.
(Collins, Picnic, Lightning ll. 13-19, p. 41)
when the world is puddle-wonderful
(cummings in Just- ll.9-10, p. 45)
After great pain, a formal feeling comes--
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs--
(Dickinson Poem 341, ll. 1-2, p. 47)
The stream was swift, and so cold
I thought I would be sliced in two
(Erdritch Captivity ll. 1-2, p. 66)
Before this fire of sense decay,
The smoke of thought blow clean away,
(Housman The Immortal Part ll. 41-2, p. 106)
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
(Hughes Harlem ll. 1-3, P. 111)
My clouded reflection eyes me
like a bird of prey, the profile of night
slanted against morning.
(Komunyaaka Facing It ll. 6-7, p. 127)
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
(Pound In a Station of the Metro, p. 161)