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OZYMANDIAS by Percy Shelly Bysshe

on February 15, 2024

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Almost lived

Al most lived." - Nikita Gill "The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived." - Nikita Gill

''DAFFODILS''

“Daffodils” by William Wordsworth (1770-1850) I wandered lonely as a cloud That 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 shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What 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. Examination of the Poem Through the storyteller's possibility experience with a field of daffodils by the water, we are given...

“Holy Sonnet 10: Death, Be Not Proud” by John Donne (1572-1631) Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery. Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. Examination of the Poem Demise is a lasting subject of dread and depression. Yet, this poem appears to say that it need not be like this. The profoundly centered assault around Death's feeling of pride utilizes a basic food item rundown of expos...

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OZYMANDIAS by Percy Shelly Bysshe

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