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Thursday, April 25, 2013


"Hope" by Emily Dickinson

Giving hope to people. Or having hope.

"Hope is the thing with feathers, That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words" These lines are clearly comparing hope with the qualities of a bird.

"And sore must be the storm,That could abash the little bird, That kept so many warm." Hear it seems Dickinson is criticizing anyone who could try and squash any amount of hope.

"And sore must be the storm" Here sore seems to mean more evil or bad.
"That kept so many warm" Keeping someone warm means positive or hopeful.
"It asked a crumb of me" It being the hope as a bird, where a crumb being close to nothing that hope required in return.
Dickinsons' attitude is that she seems to value hope very highly, all of its characteristics and the feelings it brings.
There is a slight shift in from describing hope to how it can exist ins some of the chillest lands or strangest seas.
Title revisited:
Hope is what she is describing, not the theme.
Hope, like a bird, is something so gentle and kind that can lift even the heaviest of souls and so be cherished and left to do its good biding.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013


by: Charlotte Bronte (1816-1855)
    IFE, believe, is not a dream
    So dark as sages say;
    Oft a little morning rain
    Foretells a pleasant day.
    Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
    But these are transient all;
    If the shower will make the roses bloom,
    O why lament its fall?
    Rapidly, merrily,
    Life's sunny hours flit by,
    Gratefully, cheerily
    Enjoy them as they fly!
    What though Death at times steps in,
    And calls our Best away?
    What though sorrow seems to win,
    O'er hope, a heavy sway?
    Yet Hope again elastic springs,
    Unconquered, though she fell;
    Still buoyant are her golden wings,
    Still strong to bear us well.
    Manfully, fearlessly,
    The day of trial bear,
    For gloriously, victoriously,
    Can courage quell despair!

    by: Emily Dickenson

    Hope is the thing with feathers
    That perches in the soul,
    And sings the tune--without the words,
    And never stops at all,
    And sweetest in the gale is heard;
    And sore must be the storm
    That could abash the little bird
    That kept so many warm.
    I've heard it in the chillest land,
    And on the strangest sea;
    Yet, never, in extremity,
    It asked a crumb of me.

    As I Walked Out One Evening

      by W. H. Auden
    As I walked out one evening,
       Walking down Bristol Street,
    The crowds upon the pavement
       Were fields of harvest wheat.
    And down by the brimming river
       I heard a lover sing
    Under an arch of the railway:
       'Love has no ending.
    'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
       Till China and Africa meet,
    And the river jumps over the mountain
       And the salmon sing in the street,
    'I'll love you till the ocean
       Is folded and hung up to dry
    And the seven stars go squawking
       Like geese about the sky.
    'The years shall run like rabbits,
       For in my arms I hold
    The Flower of the Ages,
       And the first love of the world.'
    But all the clocks in the city
       Began to whirr and chime:
    'O let not Time deceive you,
       You cannot conquer Time.
    'In the burrows of the Nightmare
       Where Justice naked is,
    Time watches from the shadow
       And coughs when you would kiss.
    'In headaches and in worry
       Vaguely life leaks away,
    And Time will have his fancy
       To-morrow or to-day.
    'Into many a green valley
       Drifts the appalling snow;
    Time breaks the threaded dances
       And the diver's brilliant bow.
    'O plunge your hands in water,
       Plunge them in up to the wrist;
    Stare, stare in the basin
       And wonder what you've missed.
    'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
       The desert sighs in the bed,
    And the crack in the tea-cup opens
       A lane to the land of the dead.
    'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
       And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
    And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
       And Jill goes down on her back.
    'O look, look in the mirror,
       O look in your distress:
    Life remains a blessing
       Although you cannot bless.
    'O stand, stand at the window
       As the tears scald and start;
    You shall love your crooked neighbour
       With your crooked heart.'
    It was late, late in the evening,
       The lovers they were gone;
    The clocks had ceased their chiming,
       And the deep river ran on. 
    - See more at:

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


test was awfully hard for me.
I did study all of the terms and I am good at defining them, but not good enough to find them from passages.
And especially when they only appear for 10 seconds.
After the test, I realized that I need to study more on the terms and also need to learn to read faster...