BASIC TERMS - mlbgsd.k12.pa.us Web viewFigurative language is a word or phrase that departs from everyday literal language for the sake of comparison, emphasis, clarity, or freshness

BASIC TERMSStanza: _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Speaker: __________________________________________________________________________________

Structure: ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Syntax: __________________________________________________________________________________

Diction: ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________• “The finny tribe” instead of “fish”• “I’s gwine to quit ma frownin”

Tone: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tone Words: Amused, Disapproving, Frank, Judgmental, Sarcastic, Whimsical

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGEDevices that a poet uses to make the language of his poems figurative and

imaginative. Figurative language is a word or phrase that departs from everyday literal language for the sake of comparison, emphasis, clarity, or

freshness.

Imagery: __________________________________________________________________________________________________“GIVE me the splendid silent sun, with all his beams full-dazzling;  Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard;  Give me a field where the unmow’d grass grows;  Give me an arbor, give me the trellis’d grape;  Give me fresh corn and wheat—give me serene-moving animals, teaching content;”         

Simile: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

“as dry as a bone”

“as easy as shooting fish in a barrel” “they fought like cats and dogs” “stand out like a sore thumb”

Metaphor: _________________________________________________________________________________________________

“time is money” “time is a thief” “he has a heart of stone” “America is a melting pot”

Personification: _____________________________________________________________________________________________

“the sun played hide and seek with the clouds” “opportunity knocked on the door” “the vines wove their fingers together”

Hyperbole: _________________________________________________________________________________________________  • “I had to walk 15 miles to school in the snow, uphill” • “you could have knocked me over with a feather”

MUSICAL DEVICESOne of the chief characteristics of poetry is to use language to create musical effects. The use of words for auditory effect…can convey meaning or mood, or

unify a work.

Rhyme: ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

● end rhymes (rhyming words that occur at the end of a poetic line)● exact rhymes (words that exactly repeat a sound…bat/cat/rat)● internal rhyme (rhyme occurring within a line)● slant rhyme (the final sounds of the words are similar but not identical)

Assonance: _______________________________________________________________________________• “I paid my way on the plane to Maine.”

Alliteration: _______________________________________________________________________________• “wide-eyed and wondering while we wait for others to waken” 

Consonance: ______________________________________________________________________________• “Bring back the black jacket.”

Onomatopoeia: ___________________________________________________________________________. • smash, wham, quack, meow, oink, whoosh, swish, zap, zing, ping, bam

Refrain: __________________________________________________________________________________

Rhythm: _________________________________________________________________________________

Meter: ___________________________________________________________________________________

Free Verse: ______________________________________________________________________________

Other Devices

Euphemism: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________• “I have determined that your employment with this company has run its course and that it is time for you to pursue other interests as we attempt to find a replacement whose attitude is more in line with our company philosophy.”

Idiom: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________• “I was in the dark about that.”• “let the cat out of the bag”

Pun: _________________________________________________________________• “Police were called to a day care center where a three year old was resisting a rest.”• “The day dreaming artist wondered when her prints would come.”

Cliché: _______________________________________________________________• “bent out of shape”

• “works like a charm”• “go the extra mile”• “by the skin of my teeth”

“Preludes” by T. S. Eliot I

The winter evening settles downWith smell of steaks in passageways.

Six o’clock.The burnt-out ends of smoky days.

And now a gusty shower wrapsThe grimy scraps

Of withered leaves about your feetAnd newspapers from vacant lots;

The showers beatOn broken blinds and chimney-pots,

And at the corner of the streetA lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.

And then the lighting of the lamps.II

The morning comes to consciousnessOf faint stale smells of beer

From the sawdust-trampled street

With all its muddy feet that pressTo early coffee-stands.

With the other masqueradesThat time resumes,

One thinks of all the handsThat are raising dingy shades

In a thousand furnished rooms.III

You tossed a blanket from the bed,You lay upon your back, and waited;You dozed, and watched the night

revealingThe thousand sordid images

Of which your soul was constituted;They flickered against the ceiling.And when all the world came back

And the light crept up between the shuttersAnd you heard the sparrows in the gutters,

You had such a vision of the street

As the street hardly understands;Sitting along the bed’s edge, where

You curled the papers from your hair,Or clasped the yellow soles of feetIn the palms of both soiled hands

IVHis soul stretched tight across the skies

That fade behind a city block,Or trampled by insistent feet

At four and five and six o’clock;And short square fingers stuffing pipes,

And evening newspapers, and eyes

Assured of certain certainties,The conscience of a blackened street

Impatient to assume the world.I am moved by fancies that are curled

Around these images, and cling:The notion of some infinitely gentle

Infinitely suffering thing.Wipe your hand across your mouth, and

laugh;The worlds revolve like ancient women

Gathering fuel in vacant lots.

“I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shineAnd twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending lineAlong the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but theyOut-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thoughtWhat wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

“A Red, Red Rose” by Robert Burns

O My Luve's like a red, red rose,That's newly sprung in June;O My Luve's like the melodieThat's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,Till a' the seas gang dry, my dearWhile the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve,And fare thee weel, awhile!

And I will come again, my luveTho' it ware ten thousand mile!

“Flint” by Christina Rossetti

An emerald is as green as grass,A ruby red as blood;

A sapphire shines as blue as heaven;A flint lies in the mud.

A diamond is a brilliant stone,To catch the world's desire;An opal holds a fiery spark;

But a flint holds a fire

“The Train” by Emily Dickinson

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up,

And stop to feed itself at tanks;And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,And, supercilious, peer

In shanties by the sides of roads;And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between, Complaining all the whileIn horrid, hooting stanza;

Then chase itself down hill

And neigh like Boanerges;Then, punctual as a start its own,

Stop-docile and omnipotent-A stable door.

“Dreams” by Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreamsFor if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged birdThat cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreamsFor when dreams goLife is a barren fieldFrozen with snow.

“Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is goldHer hardest hue to hold.Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

“The Moon” by Robert Louis Stevenson

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;She shines on thieves on the garden wall,On streets and fields and harbour quays,

And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,The howling dog by the door of the house,

The bat that lies in bed at noon,

All love to be out by the light of the moon.

But all of the things that belong to the dayCuddle to sleep to be out of her way;

And flowers and children close their eyesTill up in the morning the sun shall arise

“Cavalry Crossing a Ford” by Walt Whitman

A LINE in long array, where they wind betwixt green islands;

They take a serpentine course—their arms flash in the sun—Hark to the musical clank;

Behold the silvery river—in it the splashing horses, loitering, stop to drink;

Behold the brown-faced men—each group, each person, a picture—the negligent rest on the saddles;

Some emerge on the opposite bank—others are just entering the ford—while, 5

Scarlet, and blue, and snowy white,

The guidon flags flutter gaily in the wind.

“Sea Fever” by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tideIs a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

“Refrain” by Allen Ginsberg

The air is dark, the night is sad,I lie sleepless and I groan.

Nobody cares when a man goes mad:He is sorry, God is glad.

Shadow changes into bone.

Every shadow has a name;When I think of mine I moan,I hear rumors of such fame.

Not for pride, but only shame,Shadow changes into bone.

When I blush I weep for joy,And laughter drops from me like a stone:

The aging laughter of the boyTo see the ageless dead so coy.

Shadow changes into bone.

“After The Sea-Ship” by Walt Whitman

AFTER the Sea-Ship--after the whistling winds;

After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes,Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks,

Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship:Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying,Waves, undulating waves--liquid, uneven, emulous waves,

Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant, with curves,Where the great Vessel, sailing and tacking, displaced the surface;Larger and smaller waves, in the spread of the ocean, yearnfully

flowing;The wake of the Sea-Ship, after she passes--flashing and frolicsome,

under the sun, A motley procession, with many a fleck of foam, and many fragments,

Following the stately and rapid Ship--in the wake following.

“Fog” by Carl Sandburg

The fog comeson little cat feet.

It sits lookingover harbor and cityon silent haunchesand then moves on

“Hope is the Thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson

HOPE is the thing with feathersThat perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm.

I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,It asked a crumb of me.

“Lines Written In Dejection” by William Butler Yeats

WHEN have I last looked onThe round green eyes and the long wavering bodies

Of the dark leopards of the moon?All the wild witches, those most noble ladies,

For all their broom-sticks and their tears,Their angry tears, are gone.

The holy centaurs of the hills are vanished;I have nothing but the embittered sun;

Banished heroic mother moon and vanished,And now that I have come to fifty years

I must endure the timid sun.

“Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.

Excerpt from “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe

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 borrowFrom 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 curtainThrilled 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,'

“Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout” by Silverstein

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would not take the garbage out!

She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,

Candy the yams and spice the hams, And though her daddy would scream and

shout, She simply would not take the garbage

out. And so it piled up to the ceilings: Coffee grounds, potato peelings,

Brown bananas, rotten peas, Chunks of sour cottage cheese.

It filled the can, it covered the floor, It cracked the window and blocked the

door With bacon rinds and chicken bones,

Drippy ends of ice cream cones, Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,

Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, Pizza crusts and withered greens,

Soggy beans and tangerines, Crusts of black burned buttered toast,

Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . . The garbage rolled on down the hall,

It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . . Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,

Globs of gooey bubble gum, Cellophane from green baloney,

Rubbery blubbery macaroni, Peanut butter, caked and dry, Curdled milk and crusts of pie,

Moldy melons, dried-up mustard, Eggshells mixed with lemon custard, Cold french fried and rancid meat, Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.

At last the garbage reached so high That it finally touched the sky.

And all the neighbors moved away, And none of her friends would come to

play. And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said,

"OK, I'll take the garbage out!" But then, of course, it was too late. . . The garbage reached across the state,

From New York to the Golden Gate. And there, in the garbage she did hate,

Poor Sarah met an awful fate, That I cannot now relate

Because the hour is much too late. But children, remember Sarah Stout

And always take the garbage out!

Excerpt from “The Bells” by Edgar Allan Poe

Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!While the stars that oversprinkleAll the heavens seem to twinkle

With a crystalline delight;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wellsFrom the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells - From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

IIHear the mellow wedding bells -

Golden bells!What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!

Through the balmy air of nightHow they ring out their delight!From the molten-golden notes,

And all in tune,What a liquid ditty floats

To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloatsOn the moon!

Oh, from out the sounding cellsWhat a gush of euphony voluminously wells!

How it swells!

How it dwellsOn the Future! -how it tellsOf the rapture that impels

To the swinging and the ringingOf the bells, bells, bells,

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -

To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

“The Weary Blues” by Langston Hughes

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,

I heard a Negro play.Down on Lenox Avenue the other nightBy the pale dull pallor of an old gas light

He did a lazy sway . . .He did a lazy sway . . .

To the tune o' those Weary Blues.With his ebony hands on each ivory key

He made that poor piano moan with melody.O Blues!

Swaying to and fro on his rickety stoolHe played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.

Sweet Blues!Coming from a black man's soul.

O Blues!In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone

I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan--"Ain't got nobody in all this world,

Ain't got nobody but ma self.I's gwine to quit ma frownin'

And put ma troubles on the shelf."

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.He played a few chords then he sang some more--

"I got the Weary BluesAnd I can't be satisfied.

Got the Weary BluesAnd can't be satisfied--

I ain't happy no mo'And I wish that I had died."

And far into the night he crooned that tune.The stars went out and so did the moon.

The singer stopped playing and went to bedWhile the Weary Blues echoed through his head.

He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

“I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” by Maya Angelou

The free bird leapson the back of the windand floats downstream

till the current endsand dips his wings

in the orange sun raysand dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cage

can seldom see throughhis bars of rage

his wings are clipped andhis feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird singswith fearful trill

of the things unknownbut longed for still

and his tune is heardon the distant hill for the caged bird

sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breezeand the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn

and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreamshis shadow shouts on a nightmare screamhis wings are clipped and his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird singswith a fearful trill

of things unknownbut longed for still

and his tune is heardon the distant hillfor the caged birdsings of freedom.

“Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?”

(Sonnet 18) by William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,And summer's lease hath all too short a date.Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

“The Tyger” by William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning brightIn the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eyeCould frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skiesBurnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,Could twist the sinews of thy heart?And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread graspDare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,And water’d heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning brightIn the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eyeDare frame thy fearful symmetry?

“Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweepOf easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.

Poem/Author:

Device:

Quote from Poem:

Author’s Purpose for Device:

Poem/Author:

Device:

Quote from Poem:

Author’s Purpose for Device:

How to Identify a Rhyme SchemeStep 1: Read through the poem once without paying attention to rhyme scheme. You’ll usually have to read a poem many times before fully understanding it, so before you analyze it, just read it and enjoy it.

Step 2: Read through the poem again, and write a corresponding letter next to the end rhymes. The end rhyme of the first line will be “A.” If the next line rhymes with the first line, then that will be “A” as well. Once you get to a new line that doesn’t rhyme with the first line, then write “B” next to it. Continue through the poem, writing new letters for new end rhymes, and writing matching letters for matching end rhymes.

Step 3: See if the rhyme scheme matches, or nearly matches, any well-known rhyme schemes. Many writers use a form of poetry that follows the same rhyme scheme. For example, the Elizabethan, or Shakespearean, sonnet rhyme scheme is ABAB, CDCD, EFEF, GG. You can find many other forms of poetry that use different rhyme schemes. While many modern writers may not use such strict forms, they’re important to know because sometimes a writer will create their own twist on old forms.

http://classroom.synonym.com/analyze-rhyme-scheme-poem-4944.html

“Invictus: The Unconquerable” by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me, ___A___      Black as the Pit from pole to pole, ___B___I thank whatever gods may be ___A___      For my unconquerable soul. ___B___

In the fell clutch of circumstance ___C___      I have not winced nor cried aloud, ___D___Under the bludgeonings of chance ___C___      My head is bloody, but unbowed. ___D___

Beyond this place of wrath and tears ___E___      Looms but the horror of the shade, ___F___And yet the menace of the years ___E___      Finds, and shall find me, unafraid. ___F___

It matters not how strait the gate, ___G___      How charged with punishments the scroll, ___B__I am the master of my fate: ___G___      I am the captain of my soul. ___B___

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, ______

And sorry I could not travel both ______And be one traveler, long I stood ______And looked down one as far as I could

______To where it bent in the undergrowth; ______Then took the other, as just as fair, ______

And having perhaps the better claim, ______

Because it was grassy and wanted wear; ______

Though as for that the passing there ______Had worn them really about the same,

______

And both that morning equally lay ______In leaves no step had trodden black. ______Oh, I kept the first for another day! ______

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, ______

I doubted if I should ever come back. ______

I shall be telling this with a sigh ______Somewhere ages and ages hence: ______

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- ______I took the one less traveled by, ______And that has made all the difference.

______

How to Analyze a Poem and Determine the Theme1. Read through the poem twice.2. Annotate (make notes around) the poem as you read through it.3. Identify and define words you don’t know/words you know very little about.4. Make note of unique punctuation/spelling5. Examine the title to: identify the speaker, highlight a key concept, identify key information/expectations, determine if the poem fits into any specific category 6. Try to paraphrase the poem into “everyday” language7. Determine the speaker of the poem8. Identify the tone, structure, and rhythm of the poem9. Identify any figurative language devices AND the author’s purpose for using each device10. Ask “how” and “why” questions as you read

“Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sightBlind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

1. Definitions: ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

2. Title: ____________________________________________________________________________________

3. Paraphrase: ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

4. Speaker: ___________________________________________

5. Tone: ___________________________________________

6. Structure: ___________________________________________

7. Rhythm: ___________________________________________

8. Figurative Language (Device: “quote” – author’s purpose) : ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

9. “How” Questions: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

10. “Why” Questions: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

11. Thematic Statement: ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Types of Poetry

Narrative: tells a storyLyric: expresses the author’s feelings/thoughts/emotions, while telling a more subtle storySonnet: A lyric poem that consists of 14 lines which usually have one or more conventional rhyme schemesFree verse (vers libre): Poetry written in either rhyme or unrhymed lines that have no set fixed metrical patternHaiku: A Japanese poem composed of three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables, usually containing a season word/about a season Limerick: A short sometimes vulgar, humorous poem consisting of five anapestic lines. Lines 1, 2, and 5 have seven to ten syllables, rhyme and have the same verbal rhythm. The 3rd and 4th lines have five to seven syllables, rhyme and have the same rhythm.Epic: An extensive, serious poem that tells the story about a heroic figure; long and narrative

***There are many different types of poems. These are just a few of the main types/categories that many poems (especially ones that you will study in high school) fit

into. ***

By the end of this unit, you should be able to:- Identify the rhyme scheme of a poem- Identify devices within stanzas- Identify the form/structure of a poem- Describe the author’s purpose for using devices- Compare poems to other pieces of literature - Identify/explain the theme of a poem- Complete a full analysis of a poem

Example Test Questions:1. What theme is reflected in the poem/passage?2. Who is the speaker and why are they used in this poem?3. Describe the relationship of the tone to the speaker.4. What symbols are seen in the poem and why?5. What devices are seen and what is the author’s purpose for using each device?6. What is the effect of imagery?7. How to figurative devices contribute to the theme? Communicate ideas? Describe relationships? Help you visualize? Suggest opinions/ideas? 8. How is the description of the _________________ conveyed in both the poem and excerpt?