Summary and theme

  1. Summarise the following poem.                                            10

 I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee

And live alone in the bee loud glade.


 And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow

Dropping from the veils of the moing to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.


 I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.


 Summary:   This poem is about a man who dreams of going back to nature with a view to finding some peace. The man will build a small cabin there. He’ll have a little bean garden and a honeybee hive. He wants to live alone in peace with nature and the slow pace of country living sounds and with sparkle and violet blaze. In the last stanza, the man again states and explains that every night he hears the water lapping sound of the lake by the shore. Even though he lives in an urban place with roads and pavements, he can hear the rural sounds of the Lake Isle of Innisfree.


2. Summarize the following poem.          10

            All people dream, but not equally.      

            Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,

            Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.

            But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,

            For they dream their dreams with open eyes.

            And make them come true.

Summary: All people on Earth usually dream though not equally. The people who dream at night in the pensive mood, treat the dream to be a total emptiness, while those who dream by day with their eyes keeping open, are dangerous because they prefer their dream to be materialized.


3. ‘Out, Out-‘ by Robert Frost

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard

And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,

Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.

And from there those that lifted eves could count

Five mountain ranges one behind the other

Under the sunset far into Vermont

And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,

As it ran light. or had to bear a load.

And nothing happened : day was all but done.

Call it a day. I wish they might have said

To please the boy by giving him the half hour

That a boy counts so much when saved from work.

His sister stood beside him in her apron

To tell them ‘Supper’. At the word, the saw.

As if to prove saws knew what supper meant.

Leaped out at the boy’s hand, or seemed to leap

He must have given the hand. However it was,

Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!

Summary: A young man is cutting firewood with a buzz saw in New England. Near the end of the day, the boy’s sister announces that it is time for dinner and, out of excitement, the boy accidentally cuts his hand with the saw. He begs his sister not to allow the doctor to amputate the hand but inwardly realizes that he has already lost too much blood to survive. The boy dies while under anesthesia, and everyone goes back to work.


4. Time, You Old Gipsy Man  by Ralph Hodgson

TIME, you old gipsy man,

Will you not stay,

Put up your caravan

Just for one day?

All things I’ll give you

Will you be my guest,

Bells for your jennet

Of silver the best,

Goldsmiths shall beat you

A great golden ring,

Peacocks shall bow to you,

Little boys sing,

Oh, and sweet girls will

Festoon you with may.

Time, you old gipsy,

Why hasten away?

Last week in Babylon,

Last night in Rome,

Morning, and in the crush

Under Paul’s dome;

Under Paul’s dial

You tighten your rein—

Only a moment,

And off once again;

Off to some city

Now blind in the womb,

Off to another

Ere that’s in the tomb.

Time, you old gipsy man,

Will you not stay,

Put up your caravan

Just for one day?

Summary: In this poem, ‘Time, You Old Gipsy Man’, the poet Ralph Hodgson told about time. He said that time never stays. It always runs and runs. For this, he names the time “Old gipsy man”. To stop the time, he offered the time things such as belts for its jennet of the best silver, a big golden ring etc. He told time that peacocks will bow, little boys will sing songs, sweet girls will festoon the time with may. He requested the time to put up its caravan just for one day, but the time never stays.  It passes and passes. Nobody can stop its ever-busy frigate even for a second. We know how precious thing is time for us. If we don’t use it properly, it will run away and never come back. So, we need to use the time properly.



“I Died for Beauty, but was Scarce” by Emily Dickinson

I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth, -the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.



The poem begins with a paradoxical tone of a dead person speaking. Here the dead comprises the beauty. The first stanza speaks about the burial of beauty in a proper manner. She is being adjusted in the tomb carefully and lovingly. As she is laid, a company arrives beside her tomb. “Truth” is her new neighbour.

The second stanza is a discourse between the one who died for beauty and the one who died for truth. Sensing the presence of beauty beside his tomb, truth enquires about her cause of death. He addresses her slowly and genuinely, understanding that he was touching on a sore topic. He speaks softly to Her. Then “beauty” gives her reply, listening to which “truth” connects himself to the cause. He calls them “brethren” as both of them had given up their life for the fundamental they believed in.

The bond formed between the duos is discussed in the final stanza. Though they had only met, they began to share a relation of kinsmen immediately. Like a long lost sibling, they continue talking for a long time. But finally they had to stop as their mortal body starts decaying and gets covered with moss.


I Have Seen Bengal’s Face

Because I have seen Bengal’s face I will seek no more;

The world has not anything more beautiful to show me.

Waking up in darkness, gazing at the fig-tree, I behold

Dawn’s swallows roosting under huge umbrella-like leaves. I look around me

And discover a leafy dome-Jam, Kanthal, Bat, Hijol and Aswatha trees-

All in a hush, shadowing clumps of cactus and zedoary bushes.

When long, long ago, Chand came in his honeycombed boat

To a blue Hijal, Bat and Tamal shade near the Champa, he too sighted

Bengal’s incomparable beauty. One day, alas. In the Ganguri,

On a raft, as the waning moon sank on the river’s sandbanks,

Behula too saw countless aswaths bats besides golden rice fields

And heard the thrush’s soft song. One day, arriving in Amara,

Where gods held court, when she danced like a desolate wagtail,

Bengal’s rivers, fields, flowers, wailed like strings of bells on her feet.


The central theme of the poem is to admire the beauty of nature of Bengal. Bengal is full of cultural and natural elements. Yet we the commons fail to get the note. The poet is one of the best citizens of the country. Jibanananda thus enumerates the presence and the importance of nature to us through this poem. He connects the inanimate with the living as well. The poem opens with the dawn time when the morning bird is sitting beneath a big leaf. The poet can see a lot of other trees and herbs. He names some of the least looked upon shrubs. Then he makes us remember of the heritage of the area. He says that this beauty of the Bengal shall be for even. This is eternal.



She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron


She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!


“She Walks in Beauty” is a love poem written by Lord Byron in 1814. In this poem, Byron describes a woman’s extraordinary beauty. Throughout the poem, he explains the woman’s physical beauty as well as her spiritual and intellectual beauty. It was clear that Lord Byron was writing about a woman whom he thought very highly of. Lord Byron’s first verse had convinced that the woman in his poem was one whom he’d merely caught a glimpse of. The poem is about an unnamed woman. She’s really quite striking, and the speaker compares her to lots of beautiful, but dark, things, like “night” and “starry skies.” The second stanza continues to use the contrast between light and dark, day and night, to describe her beauty. We also learn that her face is really “pure” and “sweet.” The third stanza wraps it all up – she’s not just beautiful, she’s “good” and “innocent,” to boot. The mention of her sweet, pure thoughts and her innocent heart provided the possibility that Lord Byron loved this beautiful woman. 


“The Charge of the Light Brigade”

Lord Alfred Tennyson


Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!’ he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Their’s not to make reply,
Their’s not to reason why,
Their’s but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;

Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade ?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!


The poem tells the story of a brigade consisting of 600 soldiers who rode on horseback into the valley of death for half a league (about one and a half miles). They were obeying a command to charge the enemy forces that had been seizing their guns. Not a single soldier was discouraged or distressed by the command to charge forward, even though all the soldiers realized that their commander had made a terrible mistake. The role of the soldier is to obey and not to make reply, not to reason why. The 600 soldiers were assaulted by the shots of shells of canons in front and on both sides of them. Still, they rode courageously forward toward their own deaths. The soldiers struck the enemy gunners with their unsheathed swords and charged at the enemy army while the rest of the world looked on in wonder. They rode into the artillery smoke and broke through the enemy line, destroying their Cossack and Russian opponents. Then they rode back from the offensive, but they had lost many men. Canons behind and on both sides of the soldiers now assaulted them with shots and shells. Soldiers and horses collapsed but few remained to make the journey back. The world marvelled at the courage of the soldiers. Indeed, their glory is undying. The poem states these noble 600 men remain worthy of honor and tribute today.



From September 1, 1939 by W. H. Auden


I sit on one of the dives

On Fifty-second Street

Uncertain and afraid

As the clever hopes expire.

Of a low dishonest decade:

Waves of anger and fear

Circulate over the bright

And darkened lands of the earth,

Obsessing our private lives;

The unmentionable odour of death

Offends the September night.


“September 1, 1939” is a poem by W. H. Auden written on the occasion of the outbreak of World War IIThe day that Adolf Hitler invaded Poland. W. H. Auden uses the occasion to write a farewell to the 1930’s and to meditate on the social and psychological causes of war.

The poem is written in the first person, with the poet addressing the reader directly. Auden claims to be writing the poem in a bar in midtown Manhattan. While the setting may seem, at first, inappropriate for a serious subject, it is typical of Auden, as well as of many other modern poets, to take a detached point of view—even when their subjects are profoundly important to them. The mood or tone of the entire poem is established in the first stanza. The poet reports directly his feelings of uncertainty and fear for the future, as well as his distrust of the socialist schemes of the 1930’s that failed to prevent the recurrence of war.