Your Comment!!

Hello every body,
I would like you to comment about these questions of Poems:>>

A- Compare these two poems from the following perspectives:
1- Form & structure
2- Figures of speech employed (simile, metaphor, personification, irony, alliteration, assonance)
3- Poetic Diction
4- Subject and Theme
5- Symbolism
6- Tone of poet toward the subject of the poem
B- Paraphrase each of the two poems on your own.

--Death Be Not Proud - a poem by John Donne
(1572-1631)

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy’or, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

--Because I Could Not Stop for Death- A poem by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, be passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.>>

I appreciate any piece of writing..

This sounds like homework for your British Literature class. What are you? A senior in high school?

=P Nice try. You won't be getting any help here!

Uriel is damn good at literature. She might give you a helping hand. Wait till she srrives on the forum with her be-know-all-attitude. She is a witch who has an answer for every question ;)

Guest 224, I'm a junior, so that I ask helping hand!!<<You won't be getting any help here!>>Why??
I have always gotten help here:)

<<She is a witch who has an answer for every question>>
I agree with you Guest:)

I meant "here" as in myself. Because I myself am a Senior in high school with no answers to give! =P

Unfortunately, my magical powers stop at poetry, 'cause I've never cared for the stuff. (Well, except for funny poems and dirty limericks. My tastes are pretty lowbrow.)

But, what the hell, I'll give it a shot:

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

All her life, the author has been in a hurry, but now she is being introduced to eternity. The contrast is between the fleeting hustle and bustle of life and the more leisurely pace of the dead.


We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;

She is reliving the quotidian moments of life. The setting sun is a metaphor for the end of her life.

The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

This is her grave, rendered in quasi-architectural terms and her "clothing" of earth -- she is exchanging the external shelters of life (housing and clothes) for more eternal ones of dirt and the elements.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

Neatly wraps up the initial contrasts in her perception of the passage of time -- mortal haste versus the long contemplation of the dead.


While Dickinson's poem takes a rather kindly look at death as the natural end of all things, and a time of rest and reverie, John Donne is more from the "Do not go gently into that good night/Rage, rage against the dying of the light" school of thought (gosh, that was a horrible mix of literary metaphors!)

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy’or, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

I like this line: "From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures bee". It sounds so old-fashioned and Shakespearian. (Rest and sleep are but smaller versions of death.) If I remember correctly, John Donne wrote a few centuries ago himself.

Here, death is reviled and belittled as a mere side effect, a "slave" to those who deal it out, and as a temporary effect at that, being shortly followed by rebirth into the afterworld. It is a transitional action, not the state of being Dickinson describes.

We read that John Donne poem in my 12th grade Humanities class, and that Emily Dickinson poem in my 11th grade American Lit class.

Thank you Uriel so much;), but you didn't give me the (A) question's ansewr!
Could you please let me know what(form, Poetic Diction, Symbolism)mean?

By the way Uriel, I have always thought you are a guy! Why? I've no idea!!

Thanks in advance;)

I'm a girl, and I don't know enough about poetry to answer those questions -- sorry.

I agree with Sarah. Uriel's tastes are not girly me thinks. She looks more like a boy in her tastes for many things and probably that's why we love her especially I do as a guy -- her tastes in literature conincide with those of mine.

;)