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poems > jhkh > Flashcards

jhkh Flashcards

1
Q

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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2
Q

And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose

My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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3
Q

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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4
Q

And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins

How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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5
Q

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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6
Q

And I am dumb to tell the hanging man

How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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7
Q

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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8
Q

And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind

How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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9
Q

And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb

How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

A

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

– Dylan Thomas

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10
Q

There came a day that caught the summer
Wrung its neck
Plucked it
And ate it.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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11
Q

Now what shall I do with the trees?

The day said, the day said.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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12
Q

Strip them bare, strip them bare.

Let´s see what is really there.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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13
Q

And what shall I do with the sun?

The day said, the day said.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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14
Q

Roll him away till he´s cold and small.

He´ll come back rested if he comes back at all.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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15
Q

And what shall I do with the birds?

The day said, the day said.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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16
Q

The birds I´ve frightened, let them flit,

I´ll hang out pork for the brave tomtit

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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17
Q

And what shall I do with the seed?

The day said, the day said.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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18
Q

Bury it deep, see what it´s worth.

See if it can stand the earth.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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19
Q

What shall I do with the people?

The day said, the day said

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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20
Q

Stuff them with apple and blackberry pie –

They´ll love me then till the day they die.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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21
Q

Then came this day and he was autumn.

His mouth was wide

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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22
Q

And red as a sunset.

His tail was an icicle.

A

There Came a Day

– Ted Hughes

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23
Q

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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24
Q

Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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25
Q

Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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26
Q

And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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27
Q

And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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28
Q

And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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29
Q

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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30
Q

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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31
Q

You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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32
Q

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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33
Q

And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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34
Q

“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;

“They called me the hyacinth girl.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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35
Q

Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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36
Q

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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37
Q

With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

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38
Q

Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,

The lady of situations.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

39
Q

Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

40
Q

I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

41
Q

Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

42
Q

Unreal City,

Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

43
Q

A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,

I had not thought death had undone so many.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

44
Q

Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,

And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

45
Q

Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

46
Q

There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson!
“You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
“That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
“Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
“Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

47
Q

“Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men,
“Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again!
“You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”

A

“The Waste Land”

– TS ELIOT

48
Q

Pike, three inches long, perfect
Pike in all parts, green tigering the gold.
Killers from the egg: the malevolent aged grin.
They dance on the surface among the flies.

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

49
Q

Or move, stunned by their own grandeur,
Over a bed of emerald, silhouette
Of submarine delicacy and horror.
A hundred feet long in their world.

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

50
Q

In ponds, under the heat-struck lily pads –
Gloom of their stillness:
Logged on last year’s black leaves, watching upwards.
Or hung in an amber cavern of weeds

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

51
Q

The jaws’ hooked clamp and fangs
Not to be changed at this date;
A life subdued to its instrument;
The gills kneading quietly, and the pectorals.

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

52
Q

Three we kept behind glass,
Jungled in weed: three inches, four,
And four and a half: fed fry to them –
Suddenly there were two. Finally one

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

53
Q

With a sag belly and the grin it was born with.
And indeed they spare nobody.
Two, six pounds each, over two foot long.
High and dry in the willow-herb –

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

54
Q

One jammed past its gills down the other’s gullet:
The outside eye stared: as a vice locks –
The same iron in his eye
Though its film shrank in death.

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

55
Q

A pond I fished, fifty yards across,
Whose lilies and muscular tench
Had outlasted every visible stone
Of the monastery that planted them –

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

56
Q

Stilled legendary depth:
It was as deep as England. It held
Pike too immense to stir, so immense and old
That past nightfall I dared not cast

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

57
Q

But silently cast and fished
With the hair frozen on my head
For what might move, for what eye might move.
The still splashes on the dark pond,

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

58
Q

Owls hushing the floating woods
Frail on my ear against the dream
Darkness beneath night’s darkness had freed,
That rose slowly towards me, watching.

A

Pike

– Ted Hughes

59
Q

I can feel the tug
of the halter at the nape
of her neck, the wind
on her naked front.

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

60
Q

It blows her nipples
to amber beads,
it shakes the frail rigging
of her ribs.

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

61
Q

I can see her drowned
body in the bog,
the weighing stone,
the floating rods and boughs.

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

62
Q

Under which at first
she was a barked sapling
that is dug up
oak-bone, brain-firkin:

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

63
Q

her shaved head
like a stubble of black corn,
her blindfold a soiled bandage,
her noose a ring

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

64
Q

to store
the memories of love.
Little adulteress,
before they punished you

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

65
Q

you were flaxen-haired,
undernourished, and your
tar-black face was beautiful.
My poor scapegoat,

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

66
Q

I almost love you
but would have cast, I know,
the stones of silence.
I am the artful voyeur

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

67
Q

of your brains exposed
and darkened combs,
your muscles’ webbing
and all your numbered bones:

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

68
Q

I who have stood dumb
when your betraying sisters,
cauled in tar,
wept by the railings,

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

69
Q

who would connive
in civilized outrage
yet understand the exact
and tribal, intimate revenge.

A

Punishment

– Seamus Heaney

70
Q

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.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

71
Q

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.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

72
Q

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.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

73
Q

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.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

74
Q

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.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

75
Q

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

76
Q

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

A

Do Not Go Gentle into that good night

– Dylan Thomas

77
Q

On the day of the explosion
Shadows pointed towards the pithead:
In thesun the slagheap slept.

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

78
Q

Down the lane came men in pitboots
Coughing oath-edged talk and pipe-smoke
Shouldering off the freshened silence.

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

79
Q

One chased after rabbits; lost them;
Came back with a nest of lark’s eggs;
Showed them; lodged them in the grasses.

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

80
Q

So they passed in beards and moleskins
Fathers brothers nicknames laughter
Through the tall gates standing open.

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

81
Q

At noon there came a tremor; cows
Stopped chewing for a second; sun
Scarfed as in a heat-haze dimmed.

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

82
Q

The dead go on before us they
Are sitting in God’s house in comfort
We shall see them face to face—

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

83
Q

plian as lettering in the chapels
It was said and for a second
Wives saw men of the explosion

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

84
Q

Larger than in life they managed—
Gold as on a coin or walking
Somehow from the sun towards them

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

85
Q

One showing the eggs unbroken.

A

The Explosion

– Philip Larkin

86
Q

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

87
Q

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

88
Q

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

89
Q

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

90
Q

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

91
Q

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

92
Q

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

93
Q

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

94
Q

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

A

Dulce et Decorum Est

– Wilfred Owen

poems (2 decks)

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