GC3DQM1 - American Literature: Romantics
By: krymdog
1. Here is the puzzle.
Geocache Description:
The cache can be found at the following coordinates:
N 46. AB.CDE W 091. FG.HIJ
N 46. AB.CDE W 091. FG.HIJ
I make my living by forcing students to analyze poems, short stories, novels, and other works of literature. Why should you people be any different?
This series concentrates solely on American Literature. American Literature can be broken down into eight unique time periods, each with its own identifying characteristics. Arranged chronologically from earliest to latest, they are:
Native Americans
Puritans
Rationalists
Romantics
Transcendentalists
Realists
Modernists
Post-Modernists
Each of the eight American Lit caches will concentrate on one of these time periods. Read the selected works and answer the questions. The correct answers will generate the correct grid coordinates.
Note: I’d do all eight caches before heading out, as all the caches are located in the same general area.
In each of the eight American Lit. mystery caches is a clue for the American Lit: Final Exam cache. I encourage you to take your time with these solves and this series—read the selections to achieve understanding rather than skimming for the answers to the questions. The answers will come with a thorough understanding of the material. Remember—sometimes it’s the journey, not the destination, that’s important.
The Romantics (1790's-1850's):
The term “Romantic” can be misleading. You think “Romantic,” and you think either of the traditional “chick flick,” cheesy Hallmark cards, or the trashy $5.99 novels featuring the half-naked woman on the cover being swooned by the guy with the 5%
bodyfat. This is not the case.
The Romantic movement emerged in the 19th Century as a reaction to the Rationalist movement. In stark contrast to their predecessors, Romantics stressed intuition over fact and imagination over reason. Their writings are full of vivid descriptions that trigger the readers’ imagination and emotions. Romantics felt that the individual was often corrupted by a society that more often than not forced him/her to conform. The were also inspired by and reveled in nature. In his most famous poem, “Thanatopsis,” William Cullen Bryant explores the inevitability of death, as well as its connectivity with nature.
THANATOPSIS
by William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around--
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--
Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourish'd thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings,
The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun,--the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods; rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, pour'd round all,
Old Ocean's grey and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.--Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound
Save his own dashings--yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest: and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glides away, the sons of men,
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side
By those who in their turn shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that mysterious realm where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged by his dungeon; but, sustain'd and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
A. What advice does the narrator have for those who start to get sad when they think of their impending demise?
1. Kill yourself
0. Get out into nature
2. Pray
3. Surround yourself with family and friends
B. What does this line mean: “All that tread the globe are but a handful to the tribes
that slumber in its bosom”?
1. That there are more dead, buried people than there are live ones
2. That the dead will one day walk the earth again
3. That all the dead have reached Heaven
4. That all the dead have gone to Hell
C. How does the narrator feel that people should view the grave?
3. As something to be avoided
1. As the end result of a sinful life
4. As something to be cursed
0. As settling down into a comfortable sleep
D. What comfort does the poem NOT offer to those who fear death?
8. That everyone will die eventually
7. That we will join the company of kings and other great men
1. That we will live on in the hearts of our loved ones
The next Romantic author needs no introduction. Father of both the modern horror novel AND the modern detective story, Edgar Allan Poe’s suspense-filled writings inspired such modern authors as Stephen King and Dean Koontz, and still have us leaving our night-lights on over a century later. A Romantic in every sense of the word, rather than cramming his writings full of the gratuitous blood and guts that have absolutely ruined today’s horror genre, Poe’s psychological thrillers allowed readers to let their imaginations do the walking. “The Raven” is probably his most famous poem.
Edgar Allan Poe—“The Raven”
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
E. Why is the narrator sad in the beginning of the poem?
0. Because he lost his job
5. Because he lost his true love
1. Because his parents recently died
7. Because he can’t understand the book he’s reading
F. With what emotion does the narrator first greet the raven/what does that emotion turn into?
3. Curiosity/anger
2. Anger/jealousy
4. Jealousy/curiosity
1. Anger/joy
G. Why does the narrator ultimately tell the raven to leave?
5. Because he keeps asking the raven questions, and gets only “nevermore” as a
response.
4. Because Lenore asks him to
6. Because the bird will not let him sleep
3. Because the raven is evil
H. Read the last stanza. What does it mean?
1. That the raven is still literally sitting above his door
4. That the narrator has been cured of his grief
7. That the narrator’s depression and grief will never leave him
0. That Lenore came back to the narrator
A recluse by nature, Emily Dickinson was largely unknown during her lifetime—the vast majority of her writings were published after her death. Today, she is probably the most celebrated female American poet in our country’s history.
Emily Dickinson—“Because I could not stop for Death”
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, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a 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. How is Death first presented in this poem?
7. As someone to be avoided
0. As an enemy
8. As a supernatural force
4. As a kind suitor
J. What does the last stanza imply?
7. That Death tricked the narrator
5. That the narrator is happy
2. That the narrator is still alive
4. That the narrator is in love
This series concentrates solely on American Literature. American Literature can be broken down into eight unique time periods, each with its own identifying characteristics. Arranged chronologically from earliest to latest, they are:
Native Americans
Puritans
Rationalists
Romantics
Transcendentalists
Realists
Modernists
Post-Modernists
Each of the eight American Lit caches will concentrate on one of these time periods. Read the selected works and answer the questions. The correct answers will generate the correct grid coordinates.
Note: I’d do all eight caches before heading out, as all the caches are located in the same general area.
In each of the eight American Lit. mystery caches is a clue for the American Lit: Final Exam cache. I encourage you to take your time with these solves and this series—read the selections to achieve understanding rather than skimming for the answers to the questions. The answers will come with a thorough understanding of the material. Remember—sometimes it’s the journey, not the destination, that’s important.
The Romantics (1790's-1850's):
The term “Romantic” can be misleading. You think “Romantic,” and you think either of the traditional “chick flick,” cheesy Hallmark cards, or the trashy $5.99 novels featuring the half-naked woman on the cover being swooned by the guy with the 5%
bodyfat. This is not the case.
The Romantic movement emerged in the 19th Century as a reaction to the Rationalist movement. In stark contrast to their predecessors, Romantics stressed intuition over fact and imagination over reason. Their writings are full of vivid descriptions that trigger the readers’ imagination and emotions. Romantics felt that the individual was often corrupted by a society that more often than not forced him/her to conform. The were also inspired by and reveled in nature. In his most famous poem, “Thanatopsis,” William Cullen Bryant explores the inevitability of death, as well as its connectivity with nature.
THANATOPSIS
by William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around--
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--
Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourish'd thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings,
The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun,--the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods; rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, pour'd round all,
Old Ocean's grey and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.--Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound
Save his own dashings--yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest: and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glides away, the sons of men,
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side
By those who in their turn shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that mysterious realm where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged by his dungeon; but, sustain'd and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
A. What advice does the narrator have for those who start to get sad when they think of their impending demise?
1. Kill yourself
0. Get out into nature
2. Pray
3. Surround yourself with family and friends
B. What does this line mean: “All that tread the globe are but a handful to the tribes
that slumber in its bosom”?
1. That there are more dead, buried people than there are live ones
2. That the dead will one day walk the earth again
3. That all the dead have reached Heaven
4. That all the dead have gone to Hell
C. How does the narrator feel that people should view the grave?
3. As something to be avoided
1. As the end result of a sinful life
4. As something to be cursed
0. As settling down into a comfortable sleep
D. What comfort does the poem NOT offer to those who fear death?
8. That everyone will die eventually
7. That we will join the company of kings and other great men
1. That we will live on in the hearts of our loved ones
The next Romantic author needs no introduction. Father of both the modern horror novel AND the modern detective story, Edgar Allan Poe’s suspense-filled writings inspired such modern authors as Stephen King and Dean Koontz, and still have us leaving our night-lights on over a century later. A Romantic in every sense of the word, rather than cramming his writings full of the gratuitous blood and guts that have absolutely ruined today’s horror genre, Poe’s psychological thrillers allowed readers to let their imaginations do the walking. “The Raven” is probably his most famous poem.
Edgar Allan Poe—“The Raven”
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
E. Why is the narrator sad in the beginning of the poem?
0. Because he lost his job
5. Because he lost his true love
1. Because his parents recently died
7. Because he can’t understand the book he’s reading
F. With what emotion does the narrator first greet the raven/what does that emotion turn into?
3. Curiosity/anger
2. Anger/jealousy
4. Jealousy/curiosity
1. Anger/joy
G. Why does the narrator ultimately tell the raven to leave?
5. Because he keeps asking the raven questions, and gets only “nevermore” as a
response.
4. Because Lenore asks him to
6. Because the bird will not let him sleep
3. Because the raven is evil
H. Read the last stanza. What does it mean?
1. That the raven is still literally sitting above his door
4. That the narrator has been cured of his grief
7. That the narrator’s depression and grief will never leave him
0. That Lenore came back to the narrator
A recluse by nature, Emily Dickinson was largely unknown during her lifetime—the vast majority of her writings were published after her death. Today, she is probably the most celebrated female American poet in our country’s history.
Emily Dickinson—“Because I could not stop for Death”
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, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a 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. How is Death first presented in this poem?
7. As someone to be avoided
0. As an enemy
8. As a supernatural force
4. As a kind suitor
J. What does the last stanza imply?
7. That Death tricked the narrator
5. That the narrator is happy
2. That the narrator is still alive
4. That the narrator is in love
Additional Hints (No hints available.)
2. Solve the puzzle.
A. What advice does the narrator have for those who start to get sad when they think of their impending demise?
1. Kill yourself
0. Get out into nature
2. Pray
3. Surround yourself with family and friends
A = 0
B. What does this line mean: “All that tread the globe are but a handful to the tribes
that slumber in its bosom”?
1. That there are more dead, buried people than there are live ones
2. That the dead will one day walk the earth again
3. That all the dead have reached Heaven
4. That all the dead have gone to Hell
B = 1
C. How does the narrator feel that people should view the grave?
3. As something to be avoided
1. As the end result of a sinful life
4. As something to be cursed
0. As settling down into a comfortable sleep
C = 0
D. What comfort does the poem NOT offer to those who fear death?
8. That everyone will die eventually
7. That we will join the company of kings and other great men
1. That we will live on in the hearts of our loved ones
D = 1
E. Why is the narrator sad in the beginning of the poem?
0. Because he lost his job
5. Because he lost his true love
1. Because his parents recently died
7. Because he can’t understand the book he’s reading
E = 5
F. With what emotion does the narrator first greet the raven/what does that emotion turn into?
3. Curiosity/anger
2. Anger/jealousy
4. Jealousy/curiosity
1. Anger/joy
F = 3
G. Why does the narrator ultimately tell the raven to leave?
5. Because he keeps asking the raven questions, and gets only “nevermore” as a
response.
4. Because Lenore asks him to
6. Because the bird will not let him sleep
3. Because the raven is evil
G = 5
H. Read the last stanza. What does it mean?
1. That the raven is still literally sitting above his door
4. That the narrator has been cured of his grief
7. That the narrator’s depression and grief will never leave him
0. That Lenore came back to the narrator
H = 7
I. How is Death first presented in this poem?
7. As someone to be avoided
0. As an enemy
8. As a supernatural force
4. As a kind suitor
I = 4
J. What does the last stanza imply?
7. That Death tricked the narrator
5. That the narrator is happy
2. That the narrator is still alive
4. That the narrator is in love
J = 7
Puzzle Coordinates:
N 46. AB.CDE, W 091. FG.HIJ
Solved Coordinates:
N 46° 01.015, W 091° 35.747
3. Verify the Solved Coordinates.
Use GeoCheck to verify the solved coordinates.
GeoCheck - American Literature: Romantics
I'm glad I wasn't an English major! Thank God for summaries on the internet! With their help it was a quick solve.
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ReplyDeleteCO messaged me that someone (I think Mrs RT) notified him that there was a typo in "G". That was one of two that I had problems answering. Thanks RT for pointing this out. He's just surprised it took someone this long to let him know.
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