Name It February Your job is to find the poet who wrote these very famous lines.

Slides:



Advertisements
Similar presentations
All the world's a stage (from As You Like It )-William Shakespeare
Advertisements

She Walks in Beauty Stanzas 2 and 3.
She Walks in Beauty By Lord Byron
She Walks in Beauty English 7-8 Ms. Ledoux Fall 2008/Spring 2009
O Captain! My Captain! By: Santiago Chavez, Rodrigo Segovia.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
Extended Metaphor. Extended Metaphor Defined  An extended metaphor is a metaphor that has many parts and may be several sentences long.  A regular metaphor.
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung.
“THE ROAD NOT TAKEN” ROBERT FROST POET ( )
By Titus Henderson (Big Daddy).   Born in New York,  Was an American poet and journalist.  Whitman's work breaks the boundaries of poetic form.
Think about it… Which picture was taken before the war? Which was taken after? What do these photos reveal about the toll the war took on Lincoln?
She has a heart of gold. heart of gold.. Those words were music to my ears.
SUBJECT- ENGLISH CLASS- IX SECTION -B TOPIC-POEM THE SEVEN AGES - by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PREPARED BY- KRISHNA KUMARI RANA TGT (ENGLISH)
Stages.
“The seven ages of man” William Shakespeare.
20071 The Seven Ages of Man Narrator Linda Radford Lead role: Population of Hertfordshire Support act: Local community pharmacist.
The Seven Ages of Man All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man.
7 Day Unit: Day 4 1-Month Unit Day 6
 Born on May 31 st, 1819, in Long Island, New York  Son of a Quaker carpenter  Most famous for his poem “Leaves of Grass”  Had a questionable sexuality.
Frost, Whitman and Angelou Free Verse Poetry. Robert Frost.
THE SEVEN AGES OF MAN William Shakespeare
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! A Civil War poem by Walt Whitman
CIVIL WAR Jasmine Palmer 3/3/2012. THE CROSSING AT FREDERICKSBURG  I like this poem because you can feel what the solider was feeling at this point in.
THE SEVEN AGES By, William Shakespeare.. All the world’s a stage And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances;
SEVEN AGES By William Shakespeare Presented by Mr. J.B. Singh TGT English 1.
Figurative Language. Complete the sentences. 1. His car was as loud as a ________. 2. The blanket was soft like a ________. 3. The old cat was a mean.
Recommendation of a Strategy The Key is to Understand Men and not be bound by existing Paradigms of Care.
From William Shakespeare ’ s As You Like It. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players.
1 st Room—Blue 2 nd Room—Purple 3 rd Room—Green 4 th Room—Orange 5 th Room—White 6 th Room—Violet 7 th Room—Black.
Social Interaction Theories  We are what we do  Belief controls actions.  We create a social and cultural worlds consistent with our belief systems.
What it represents: They represent humanity/ human beings. How it helps teach the lesson: Although the party guests isolate themselves, they still die.
Critical Theory: Metaphor (1) – A2 (Unit 4: Further & Independent Reading) What is metaphor? Write down both a definition of metaphor, and an example.
WA L T W H I T M A N Alex Hong & Peter Lau.  Born on May 32, 1819, in Long Island, New York.  At age 12, became an apprentice on the Long Island Patriot,
Walt Whitman (May 31, 1819, New York – March 26, 1892, New Jersey)
Figurative Language By Alejandro Fonseca. Definitions Simile: a comparison between two or more things using the words like or as. Metaphor: A comparison.
Types of Poems. Elegy A lyric poem that is written to mourn the passing of something or someone. O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The.
Walt Whitman A master of free verse. A Timeline.. Walt Whitman was born on May 31st, 1819 in West Hills, New York. The Whitman family moved to Brooklyn,
Warm-up 10/23/112 Proofreading 1.I beleive we should place great emphasis on learning the function rather than on the accomplishment of routine tasks.
Steve Zocher Justin Waters Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.
Lesson 1 Objectives: To understand a monologue. To know The Seven Ages of Man by William Shakespeare. To understand how the use of space and levels can.
“THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH” Edgar Allan Poe. Symbolism used to describe the relationship between the Red Death and Time. – Clock symbolizes the significance.
Herman Melville Walt Whitman Abraham Lincoln. When ocean-clouds over inland hills Sweep storming in late autumn brown, And horror the sodden valley fills,
Peer Review Does the introduction contain a brief plot summary of the story? Is there a thesis statement at the end of the introduction? Is the theme written.
Walt Whitman Walt Whitman
Said Orville Wright to Wilbur Wright. ―These birds are very trying.
Today’s Questions 3.Why did JWB assassinate Abraham Lincoln? 4.What happened to Lincoln’s assassin & his conspirators? 5.How did Lincoln’s death affect.
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus.
Warm Up: Which picture was taken before the war? Which was taken after? What do these photos reveal about the toll the war took on Lincoln?
Villanelle Ms. Campbell. “In the nick of rhyme”  Divide into groups based on chocolate bar type!  Compete to come up with the MOST rhymes in 1 minute.
TPT Notes HOW TO EXPLICATE A POEM. TPT  No matter what you think of poetry… no matter how scary or strange a poem may seem… if you just read through.
The 20 th Century through the present is characterized by more pessimistic poetry and a more realistic perspective than was popular prior to the World.
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! By Walt Whitman Analysis by Sarah Bachleda Danielle Lumetta Max Cretcher.
The Seven Ages of Man by William Shakespeare
SYMBOL Definition: An object that stands for or represents something else Definition: An object that stands for or represents something else.
Poetry. What is poetry? a type of literature in which words are carefully chosen and arranged to create certain effects.
Women’s Life Cycles Cradle to Grave. Women’s Life Cycles ▪ Why study life cycle in history? ▪ What key questions should we pose? ▪ Why is it important.
“O Captain! My Captain!”.
She has a heart of gold..
Metaphor.
As you come in… Grab your DEAR book and prepare for your Rules of Notice and Literary Devices Quiz.
Seven Ages of Man William Shakespeare.
- As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII); Jacques to Duke Senior
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Introduction to Edgar Allan Poe
Extended Metaphor The whole poem is a metaphor that is suggesting something else. On the following slide you will read the poem “O Captain! My Captain!
NUMBERS Archetypes Jennifer A. Bennett Sanderson High School
by George Gordon, Lord Byron
By Walt Whitman Gabe Tucker Caroline Lessmann
Looking for CONNOTATION in POETRY
Walt Whitman
Presentation transcript:

Name It February Your job is to find the poet who wrote these very famous lines.

The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on that sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

All the World's a Stage All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

O Captain! My Captain! O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head; It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

I'm Nobody! Who are you? I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you -- Nobody -- Too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know! How dreary -- to be -- Somebody! How public -- like a Frog -- To tell one's name -- the livelong June -- To an admiring Bog!

I know why the caged bird sings A free bird leaps on the back Of the wind and floats downstream Till the current ends and dips his wing In the orange suns rays And dares to claim the sky. But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage Can seldom see through his bars of rage His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill Of things unknown but longed for still And his tune is heard on the distant hill for The caged bird sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze And the trade winds soft through The sighing trees And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright Lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with A fearful trill of things unknown But longed for still and his Tune is heard on the distant hill For the caged bird sings of freedom.

The Bells Hear the sledges with the bells- Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells- From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

She Walks In Beauty She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place. And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

Daybreak In Alabama When I get to be a composer I'm gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent of pine needles And the smell of red clay after rain And long red necks And poppy colored faces And big brown arms And the field daisy eyes Of black and white black white black people And I'm gonna put white hands And black hands and brown and yellow hands And red clay earth hands in it Touching everybody with kind fingers And touching each other natural as dew In that dawn of music when I Get to be a composer And write about daybreak In Alabama.