He Had His Dream – Paul Laurence Dunbar , april 24

He had his dream, and all through life,
Worked up to it through toil and strife.
Afloat fore’er before his eyes,
It colored for him all his skies:
  The storm-cloud dark
  Above his bark,
The calm and listless vault of blue
Took on its hopeful hue,
It tinctured every passing beam -
  He had his dream.

He labored hard and failed at last,
His sails too weak to bear the blast,
The raging tempests tore away
And sent his beating bark astray.
  But what cared he
  For wind or sea!
He said, “The tempest will be short,
My bark will come to port.”
He saw through every cloud a gleam -
  He had his dream.

The first thing I notice about this poem is that the rhyme scheme goes AABBCCDD …etc.   This is something that I actually have not seen in a while. Lately I’ve  been seeing a lot of ababab terza rima.  In other words, this poem contains a lot of couplets.   The diction of this poem but Paul Dunbar has a very sophisticated diction with words such as toil,  tinctured, etc.  The diction makes me feel that this was written in the victiorian era.  It definitely has that type of mood to it.  There are two stanzas. The fifth and sixth lines of both stanzas are further indented than their predecesors. Then the indention goes back to normal, but then the last lines of both stanzas are also indented.   These are indented more to emphasize those particular lines.  Overall this is a very simple, elegant poem.

A wounded deer leaps highest, Emily Dickinson, #4

A Wounded Deer — leaps highest –
I’ve heard the Hunter tell –
‘Tis but the Ecstasy of death –
And then the Brake is still!

The Smitten Rock that gushes!
The trampled Steel that springs!
A Cheek is always redder
Just where the Hectic stings!

Mirth is the Mail of Anguish
In which it Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And “you’re hurt” exclaim!

The visual in the opening stanza is very very affective in my opinion.  Personally, i find the idea of a wounded deer about to die with extacy to be an interesting point of view. The idea is sort of suggestive that animals have a soul.  Just the idea of a dear leaping high because it is about to die … very interesting i suppose.  hm.

well there are a lotof interesting techniques used throughout this poem. At the very end, the word exclaim and the word arm are both used as a slant rhyme.  I feel inclined to say that if they were anyless of rhyming friends, they wouldn’t even be able to be called a slant rhyme. None-the-less they are a slant rhyme. 

The excessive use of exclamation marks creates a very excited tone through-out the entire poem.  A lack of these marks, could allow this poem to become all to dreary, so i believe that the purpose of these marks is to create a more excited tone with a sort of dark theme.  The end result is not morbid however. 

Unfortunately i do not understand the last two stanzas… but i feel that the line

quarter 4, poem 3, amy lowell’s a decade

When you came, you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread,
Smooth and pleasant.
I hardly taste you at all for I know your savour,
But I am completely nourished.

This is honestly the most perfect poem I have ever read in my entire life.  This poem is the reason, that I am once again inspired by language.  A decade, by Amy Lowell is well composed, has a beautiful subject, and intense imagery.  As I read this, I can imagine the savor of red wine and the feeling of sweet honey burning my mouth.  That is the most perfect perfect perfect way to describe love.  The imagery of red and honey, creates this imediate emotion of affection, as those are very warm colors.  I bet that his lady, Amy Lowell, would know how to paint a great painting. She immediately demonstrates that she has an understanding of color as well as the psychology of it.  Now, the sensory is a completely different level of subject.  The imagery already creates the idea of love, but the sensory of red wine and honey burning a mouth. I don’t think she literally meant “burn”, but a burn is something that you can’t ignore… In a way it is sort of like the most addicting pain, something so sweet and perfect making burning its place into your mouth, making itself permanent…   A burn is a completely new and rare sense to the tongue.  I imagine that this is what lowell was trying to impress.  How this sweet amazing taste of red wine and honey is so new to the mouth that it is a completely different feeling.  Truly, this poem is perfect. perfect.  I absolutely want to study language for the rest of my life, because of this poem.