In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, Over earth and ocean with gentle motion Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea. That orbed maiden with white fire laden Glides glimmering o'er my fleecelike floor And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, And I laugh to see them whirl and flee Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. HELPS TO STUDY This poem is one that ought to make us take greater delight in both clouds and poetry. The hero, of course, is the Cloud. In the first stanza and a part of the second we learn what gifts the Cloud bestows upon the earth. In the second stanza we learn about the Cloud's strange pilot, and in the third we see the Cloud in his tent built by the wind. 1. What six gifts does the Cloud bestow upon the earth? 2. Which gift is usually unwelcome? 3. Who is the mother of the sweet buds? (The answer is hinted at in the eighth line of the first stanza.) 4. Who is the Cloud's pilot? Where does this pilot sit? 5. Where does he guide the Cloud? Why? 6. What beautiful visitor comes to the Cloud's tent at midnight? 7. What are the " swarms of golden bees "? 8. When the wind blows on a partly cloudy night, what do the stars seem to do? 9. What happens on earth when the Cloud's tent is torn apart? 10. Which lines in this poem do you like best? 11. Which comparisons seem to you the most interesting? 12. What is unusual about the rhymes? 13. Is the music slower or faster than in Bryant's "To a Waterfowl"? 14. Commit to memory the part that you enjoy most. For Study with the Glossary: flail, lashing, genii, orbèd, glimmering, fleecelike, woof. Phrases: skyey bowers (home in the skies) at fits (fits and starts), orbed maiden (the maiden that circles around). THE BELLS Hear the sledges with the bells Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! In the icy air of night! In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Hear the mellow wedding-bells Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! How they ring out their delight! What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! 5 10 Oh, from out the sounding cells, How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! how it tells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! Hear the loud alarum bells Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor, Now now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. 5 10 Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! On the bosom of the palpitating air! And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, 15 By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells, 20 Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright 25 At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats |