The poem comprises the fear and loneliness of a person, victim of unfortunate circumstances.
The Raven is one of the excellent literary pieces. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,Īs of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, The repetition of ‘knock’ shows how auditory imagery is effectively used to make readers perceive sounds. To show all this, Shakespeare has used auditory imagery. He is hallucinating and delivering dirty jokes to provide comic relief after the gruesome incident. He thinks that he is going to be a guard on the gate of the hell. Porter speaks these lines after the murder of King Duncan. This extract has been taken from the third scene of the second act of the play, Macbeth by William Shakespeare. Knock, knock! Who’s there, in th’ other devil’s name?” Come in time! Have napkinsĮnow about you here you’ll sweat for’t. Knock, knock, knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ the name ofīelzebub? Here’s a farmer that hanged himself on th’Įxpectation of plenty. Hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. “Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of Macbeth by William Shakespeare, Act-II, Scene-III, Lines 1-8 However, Keats has used auditory imagery in this final paragraph of the poem where animal sounds appealing to the sense of hearing such as, “lambs loud bleet”, “hedge cricket sing”, “the red-breast whistles” and “gathering swallows twitter”.
It comprises the experience of the poet, his meditation and poetic imagination. The poem explores the phenomenon of unconventional appreciation for the fall season. To Autumn is a phenomenal poem that relates the life’s stages to the autumn season. The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft Īnd gathering swallows twitter in the skies. Hedge-crickets sing and now with treble soft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies Īnd full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,Īnd touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,. Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they?
0 kommentar(er)
