UG Poems

Hello readers, In this blog I've tried to analyse poems which were in my UG syllabus Like, ""La Belle Dame sans Merci", "The Slave's Dream", "The Fly", "The Eagle", "To the Indian Who Died in Africa" and "To his Coy Mistress".

"La Belle Dame sans Merci"

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

       Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has withered from the lake,

       And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

       So haggard and so woe-begone?

The squirrel’s granary is full,

       And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,

       With anguish moist and fever-dew,

And on thy cheeks a fading rose

       Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,

       Full beautiful—a faery’s child,

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

       And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,

       And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She looked at me as she did love,

       And made sweet moan 

I set her on my pacing steed,

       And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

       A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,

       Andhoney wild, and manna-dew, 

And sure in language strange she said—

       ‘I love thee true’.

She took me to her Elfin grot, 

       And there she wept and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

       With kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,

       And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—

The latest dream I ever dreamt

       On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

       Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried—'La Belle Dame sans Merci Thee hath in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the glom,

       With horrid warning gapèd wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

       On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn here,

       Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

       And no birds sing.

John Keats' "La Belle Dame sans Merci" is a ballad that weaves a chilling tale of seduction and loss. The poem opens with a desolate scene - a pale knight stands alone by a withered lake, reflecting his inner turmoil. We learn through the knight's narration of his encounter with a bewitching fairy woman. He's captivated by her beauty and song, willingly following her into her hidden realm. The idyllic mood takes a sharp turn as the knight dreams of pale figures warning him of the lady's true nature. He wakes to find himself alone and forever marked by this encounter.

The poem is rich in symbolism. The barren landscape mirrors the knight's fading life, while the wilting garland signifies his misplaced affection. The "elfin grot" represents danger lurking beneath the surface of beauty. The pale figures in the dream serve as a chilling premonition of the knight's fate.

Romanticism's core themes are on display here. The poem explores intense emotions, the allure of the supernatural, and the inevitability of loss. The knight's experience can be seen as a cautionary tale against succumbing to deceptive appearances. It can also be interpreted as a metaphor for unrequited love or the loss of innocence. Ultimately, "La Belle Dame sans Merci" is a haunting reminder of the fragility of beauty and the enduring power of loss.

 "The Slave's Dream"

Beside the ungathered rice he lay,
  His sickle in his hand;
His breast was bare, his matted hair
  Was buried in the sand.
Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep,
  He saw his Native Land.

Wide through the landscape of his dreams
  The lordly Niger flowed;
Beneath the palm-trees on the plain
  Once more a king he strode;
And heard the tinkling caravans
  Descend the mountain-road.

He saw once more his dark-eyed queen
  Among her children stand;
They clasped his neck, they kissed his cheeks,
  They held him by the hand!—
A tear burst from the sleeper's lids
  And fell into the sand.

And then at furious speed he rode
  Along the Niger's bank;
His bridle-reins were golden chains,
  And, with a martial clank,
At each leap he could feel his scabbard of steel
  Smiting his stallion's flank.

Before him, like a blood-red flag,
  The bright flamingoes flew;
From morn till night he followed their flight,
  O'er plains where the tamarind grew,
Till he saw the roofs of Caffre huts,
  And the ocean rose to view.

At night he heard the lion roar,
  And the hyena scream,
And the river-horse, as he crushed the reeds
  Beside some hidden stream;
And it passed, like a glorious roll of drums,
  Through the triumph of his dream.

The forests, with their myriad tongues,
  Shouted of liberty;
And the Blast of the Desert cried aloud,
  With a voice so wild and free,
That he started in his sleep and smiled
  At their tempestuous glee.

He did not feel the driver's whip,
  Nor the burning heat of day;
For Death had illumined the Land of Sleep,
  And his lifeless body lay
A worn-out fetter, that the soul
  Had broken and thrown away!

Longfellow's "The Slave's Dream" paints a powerful contrast between the harsh reality of slavery and the solace found in dreams. The poem opens with a weary slave lying in the rice field, his exhaustion mirrored by the barren landscape. However, sleep offers him escape.

He enters a dream world overflowing with the beauty and freedom of his African homeland. The "lordly Niger" and "palm trees" replace the rice field, symbolizing the life stolen from him. Longfellow uses vivid imagery to depict his past as a king, riding with "golden chains" and a "scabbard of steel." The sounds of nature - the "forests" with their "myriad tongues" and the "Blast of the Desert" - become anthems of liberty.

This dream world stands in stark opposition to the physical and emotional oppression the slave endures. The poem doesn't shy away from the harshness of reality. He doesn't feel the "driver's whip" in his dream, highlighting the brutality he faces when awake.

The poem's ending is complex. While death is presented as a release, "Death had illuminated the Land of Sleep," it's a bittersweet escape. The final line suggests his body is a "worn-out fetter," a discarded shackle, but freedom comes at the ultimate price. "The Slave's Dream" uses powerful imagery and contrasting settings to expose the horrors of slavery and the enduring human desire for liberty.

 "The Fly"

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.

In "The Fly," William Blake ponders life's impermanence through the unlikely lens of a swatted fly. The poem opens with a casual act of destruction - the speaker brushes away a fly enjoying its "summer's play." This simple act sparks a deeper reflection. The speaker questions the differences between them. Are they not both simply creatures living out their brief existence?

The poem uses contrasting imagery. The carefree fly's activities - "dance," "drink," and "sing" - represent the simple pleasures of life. This is juxtaposed with the "blind hand" that could end the speaker's life just as easily.

Through these comparisons, mortality becomes the great equalizer. The final lines contemplate the nature of life itself. If "thought is life," then the fly, lacking complex thought, is content simply to exist. The speaker ponders - is there real difference between living or dying, if both human and fly find a kind of peace in their impermanence? "The Fly" is a meditation on the fragility of existence, urging us to appreciate life's fleeting moments and find meaning in the shared experience of being alive, even if for a short time.

 "The Eagle" 

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands,

Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

He watches from his mountain walls,

And like a thunderbolt he falls.

Lord Tennyson's "The Eagle" presents a powerful image of solitude, dominance, and predatory nature. The poem uses strong verbs and vivid imagery to paint a picture of the eagle perched atop a mountain crag.

The first line, "He clasps the crag with crooked hands," establishes the eagle's physical power and harsh environment. "Crooked hands" doesn't suggest beauty, but a firm grip on the unforgiving rock.

The next two lines emphasize the eagle's isolation and majestic view. "Close to the sun in lonely lands" highlights its distance from others and its proximity to the source of life. "Ring'd with the azure world" creates a panoramic image of the vast, blue sky surrounding the eagle.

The final image portrays the eagle's predatory nature. The "wrinkled sea beneath him crawls" diminishes the vastness of the ocean, making it seem insignificant compared to the eagle's height and power. The final line, "And like a thunderbolt he falls," is the most dramatic. It compares the eagle's descent to a powerful force of nature, leaving the reader to imagine the unsuspecting prey about to be struck.

"The Eagle" is a short but evocative poem that captures the essence of this powerful bird. It leaves the reader with a sense of awe for the eagle's strength, isolation, and predatory instincts.

"To the Indian Who Died in Africa"

A man's destination is his own village, 

His own fire, and his wife's cooking; 

To sit in front of his own door at sunset 

And see his grandson, and his neighbour's grandson 

Playing in the dust together. 

Scarred but secure, he has many memories 

Which return at the hour of conversation, 

(The warm or the cool hour, according to the climate) 

Of foreign men, who fought in foreign places, 

Foreign to each other. 

A man's destination is not his destiny, 

Every country is home to one man 

And exile to another. Where a man dies bravely 

At one with his destiny, that soil is his. 

Let his village remember. 

This was not your land, or ours: but a village in the Midlands, 

And one in the Five Rivers, may have the same graveyard. 

Let those who go home tell the same story of you: 

Of action with a common purpose, action 

None the less fruitful if neither you nor we 

Know, until the judgement after death, 

What is the fruit of action. 

T.S. Eliot's "To the Indian Who Died in Africa" explores the complexities of war, duty, and colonialism. The poem uses the image of an Indian soldier who died fighting in Africa during World War II to reflect on the human cost of conflict.

While the speaker acknowledges the soldier's bravery and fulfillment of his duty, the poem doesn't shy away from the tragedy of his death. The lines "Where a man dies bravely / At one with his destiny, that soil is his" suggest a kind of acceptance of fate, even in a foreign land. However, the poem also hints at the futility of war. The soldier dies far from home, fighting for an empire that may not represent his own values.

"To the Indian Who Died in Africa" uses powerful imagery to create a sense of loss. The contrasting images of a "village in the Midlands" and "one in the Five Rivers" highlight the vast distance between the soldier's homeland and his place of death. The poem doesn't offer easy answers, but it serves as a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by individuals caught in the larger forces of war and colonialism.

"To His Coy Mistress"

Had we but world enough and time,

This coyness, lady, were no crime.

We would sit down, and think which way

To walk, and pass our long love’s day.

Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side

Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide

Of Humber would complain. I would

Love you ten years before the flood,

And you should, if you please, refuse

Till the conversion of the Jews.

My vegetable love should grow

Vaster than empires and more slow;

An hundred years should go to praise

Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;

Two hundred to adore each breast,

But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart.

For, lady, you deserve this state,

Nor would I love at lower rate.

    But at my back I always hear

Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast eternity.

Thy beauty shall no more be found;

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound

My echoing song; then worms shall try

That long-preserved virginity,

And your quaint honour turn to dust,

And into ashes all my lust;

The grave’s a fine and private place,

But none, I think, do there embrace.

    Now therefore, while the youthful hue

Sits on thy skin like morning dew,

And while thy willing soul transpires

At every pore with instant fires,

Now let us sport us while we may,

And now, like amorous birds of prey,

Rather at once our time devour

Than languish in his slow-chapped power.

Let us roll all our strength and all

Our sweetness up into one ball,

And tear our pleasures with rough strife

Through the iron gates of life:

Thus, though we cannot make our sun

Stand still, yet we will make him run.

 

Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress" is a cleverly argued poem urging a woman to embrace physical intimacy. The poem is structured as a persuasion tactic. The speaker first imagines an extravagant scenario: if he had endless time, he would meticulously woo his mistress, savoring every detail of her beauty.

This elaborate fantasy cleverly highlights the harsh reality - time is limited. The poem takes a sharp turn, using vivid imagery of human decay in the grave. Lines like "The grave's a fine and private place, / But none doth celebrate your face" bluntly emphasize the pointlessness of waiting. Marvell employs wit through metaphors, or conceits, to further his argument. Comparing time to a "greedy worm" devouring beauty or a woman's body to a city under siege adds memorability and emphasizes the urgency of enjoying life's pleasures now.

"To His Coy Mistress" transcends mere seduction. It grapples with the fleeting nature of time and the inevitability of death. Some interpretations consider the "coy mistress" a symbol of lost youth or beauty in general. The poem's enduring popularity lies in its elegant form, witty delivery, and timeless exploration of seizing the moment before it's too late.