Poetry quiz, part #1.
Jan. 7th, 2004 04:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixel39So yesterday driving home I decided that I needed to post obscure bits of poetry and see how many people could identify them without resorting to the Internet, both title and poet. Because I'm weird that way.
All poetry is in English.
1. She turned her head and the name she said
Was certainly not my own;
But ere I could speak, with a smothered shriek
She fled and left me alone.
2. "Hige sceal þe heardra, heorte þe cenre,
mod sceal þe mare, þe ure mægen lytlað.
Her lið ure ealdor eall forheawen,
god on greote. A mæg gnornian
se ðe nu fram þis wigplegan wendan þenceð.
Ic eom frod feores; fram ic ne wille,
ac ic me be healfe minum hlaforde,
be swa leofan men, licgan þence."
3. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
4. "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
5. Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
6. Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
All poetry is in English.
1. She turned her head and the name she said
Was certainly not my own;
But ere I could speak, with a smothered shriek
She fled and left me alone.
2. "Hige sceal þe heardra, heorte þe cenre,
mod sceal þe mare, þe ure mægen lytlað.
Her lið ure ealdor eall forheawen,
god on greote. A mæg gnornian
se ðe nu fram þis wigplegan wendan þenceð.
Ic eom frod feores; fram ic ne wille,
ac ic me be healfe minum hlaforde,
be swa leofan men, licgan þence."
3. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
4. "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
5. Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
6. Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
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no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 03:12 pm (UTC)And #4 is "The Highwayman," which was not written by Loreena McKennit, nor was it written by L.M. Montgomery; darned if I remember the guy who wrote it.
My profs are shaking their heads in sorrow.
Not all, but some
Date: 2004-01-07 03:23 pm (UTC)#3 is Byron
#4 is The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
#6 is The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 04:30 pm (UTC)#1 I'm guessing this is one of Swinburne's just by the swing of the verse.
#2 Halfraed's Conversion?
#3 is The Destruction of Sennacherib, by George, Lord Byron.
#4 The Highwayman. Can't for the life of me remember the author.
#5 Not a clue.
#6 Wilfrid Owen or Siegfried Sassoon
I'd be ashamed but that it's all too late for me, or in the wrong language. :D