Goto Thread: PreviousNext
Goto: Forum ListMessage ListNew TopicSearchLog In
John Keats' and/or Thomas Hood's, Ode to Autumn
Posted by: Duhan1124 (---.bowdoin.edu)
Date: October 20, 2002 01:49PM

I need help in comparing and contrasting John Keats' and Thomas Hood's, Ode's to Autumn
SOMEONE PLEASE REPLY QUICKLY AN HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you..


Options: Reply To This MessageQuote This Message
Re: John Keats' and/or Thomas Hood's, Ode to Autumn
Posted by: Hugh Clary (---.washington-35rh15rt.dc.dial-access.att.net)
Date: October 21, 2002 11:35AM

Autumn
by: Thomas Hood

I Saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like Silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;—
Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright
With tangled gossamer that fell by night,
Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

Where are the songs of Summer?—With the sun,
Oping the dusky eyelids of the south,
Till shade and silence waken up as one,
And Morning sings with a warm odorous mouth.
Where are the merry birds?—Away, away,
On panting wings through the inclement skies,
Lest owls should prey
Undazzled at noonday,
And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes.

Where are the blooms of Summer?—In the west,
Blushing their last to the last sunny hours,
When the mild Eve by sudden Night is prest
Like tearful Proserpine, snatch'd from her flow'rs
To a most gloomy breast.
Where is the pride of Summer,—the green prime,—
The many, many leaves all twinkling?—Three
On the moss'd elm; three on the naked lime
Trembling,—and one upon the old oak-tree!
Where is the Dryad's immortality?—
Gone into mournful cypress and dark yew,
Or wearing the long gloomy Winter through
In the smooth holly's green eternity.

The squirrel gloats on his accomplish'd hoard,
The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain,
And honey bees have stored
The sweets of Summer in their luscious cells;
The swallows all have wing'd across the main;
But here the Autumn melancholy dwells,
And sighs her tearful spells
Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain.
Alone, alone,
Upon a mossy stone,
She sits and reckons up the dead and gone
With the last leaves for a love-rosary,
Whilst all the wither'd world looks drearily,
Like a dim picture of the drownèd past
In the hush'd mind's mysterious far away,
Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the last
Into that distance, gray upon the gray.

O go and sit with her, and be o'ershaded
Under the languid downfall of her hair:
She wears a coronal of flowers faded
Upon her forehead, and a face of care;—
There is enough of wither'd everywhere
To make her bower,—and enough of gloom;
There is enough of sadness to invite,
If only for the rose that died, whose doom
Is Beauty's,—she that with the living bloom
Of conscious cheeks most beautifies the light:
There is enough of sorrowing, and quite
Enough of bitter fruits the earth doth bear,—
Enough of chilly droppings for her bowl;
Enough of fear and shadowy despair,
To frame her cloudy prison for the soul!


Ode To Autumn
by: John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,---
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.


These two? I would go with rhyme scheme, meter, types of personification, voice and alliteration differences, for a start. How many pages do you need?


Options: Reply To This MessageQuote This Message
Re: John Keats' and/or Thomas Hood's, Ode to Autumn
Posted by: Duhan1124 (---.bowdoin.edu)
Date: October 21, 2002 12:43PM

I need 5 pages.... and im totally lost!!!!


Options: Reply To This MessageQuote This Message
Re: John Keats' and/or Thomas Hood's, Ode to Autumn
Posted by: Pam Adams (---)
Date: October 22, 2002 12:53PM

In general, a compare and contrast paper will look at how the poems are alike, such as they both personify Autumn, they both have lines about 'songs of ______'. Perhaps you could look at the poems' dates and the authors' bios. Could one have been written in response to the other.

After the 'alike' section, go into how they differ. Did you prefer one to the other? This may not be a huge section, as the two poems are pretty similar.

Overall, use Hugh's suggestions above. Making a chart might prove helpful.

pam


Options: Reply To This MessageQuote This Message


Goto: Forum ListMessage ListSearchLog In
Sorry, only registered users may post in this forum.
This poetry forum at emule.com powered by Phorum.