It's taken us three and a half stanzas to get to the bird, though, and we bet plenty of you were beginning to wonder if the title was a weird attempt to fool us. If we ware a black glass everything through it would be black and through red would be red probably. We're talking cold and ice and gray, gray, gray. As frail and puny as this bird is, it's managed to do what our speaker has been too scared to do: to forget about the odds and just sing. Then, all bets are off. You'll see what we mean in just a minute.
But who was it singing? The sky was cloudy, a storm was blowing. In the sense of brevity and descriptive art The Darkling Thrush is the masterpiece of Thomas Hardy which at the same time expresses his mixed reaction - pessimism and optimism for the coming generation. The poet also makes use of alliteration in this poem. He had a feeling that England could still rise again. In his loneliness, the poet has personified Winter and Frost.
Our speaker has more depressing descriptions to share. The action is in how the apprehension of this… 1511 Words 7 Pages Author Thomas Hardy is typically distinguished for following a trend in which all his fiction is characterized by chance being the incarnation of the blind forces controlling human destiny. It was an old thrush bird — feeble, lean and small, with its feathers disarranged by the wind. Rather the poet chose to bring symmetry to the poem. Beneath the wintry desolation there lies the eternal pulse of germ and birth.
This stuff's gray and grimy. Though the title of the poem suggested that it was all about a thrush, it took two and a half stanzas to get to the first mention of the bird. Consequently, the poet feels lifeless fervourless. But it was also the dawn of the 20th century. Due to Spam Posts are moderated before posted.
Then, all bets are off. The process of birth and growth seemed to have stopped in the rigorous winter. Posted on 2011-01-23 by a guest. The thrush thus symbolized the spirit of resurrection of new life of joy and hope that lay in store of the future, the store of the new century. Posted on 2005-04-28 by Approved Guest Post your Analysis Message This may only be an analysis of the writing. The ancient pulse of germ and birth Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth Seemed fervourless as I. This is an English west country scene in which there were no vines, but bine probably refers to bindweed or convulvulous or maybe old man's beard which does tangle in thorn bushes and die off to stems in winter.
Yet there remains remote possibilities which the thrush prophesies. As he gazes into the patch of tangled brushes, he can only see…death and destruction. As his poem is written on the cusp of the New Year, we can find the reflection on the past events and his feelings about the future. You'll see what we mean in just a minute. But in Hardy's mind, the more natural an art form is, the better.
It made him forget his parents and everything else in the world. War, floundering economy, social discord gnawed England incessantly. Thankfully not all is doom and gloom. The intense cold has pushed people inside, virtually to hibernation. The speaker was looking at the outside world leaning upon the coppice gate. Sparknotes bookrags the meaning summary overview critique of explanation pinkmonkey.
Hope and smile would return. Also in versions of this poem I've seen previously the thrush is 'aged' not 'ancient' and I prefer that. No one dared to come out to do any activity. Hardy's twist on things is to point out that even these classical elements, the stock and trade of traditional poetry, are on their way out. It was the entrance into the 20th century. The little thing isn't in the best of shape. It's almost like there's tension between the regularity of the rhythm and the huge void that the speaker seems to see in the actual world.
For he had not known what to expect, but he had his hope. At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. All of a sudden, out of all that silence and death and never-ending grayness, our speaker hears something. It has to be borne in mind that Hardy had reached 60 when he wrote this poem. We are the people of 21st centuey. You should try it sometime. The speaker talks about the dull, grey and wintry landscape of Britain that makes him gloomy but is suddenly able to listen to the song of a weak thrush in that gloomy atmosphere.
Maybe it comes from within. The work can be separated into two parts; the dismal part pertaining to the beginning of winter and the second part focusing on one small aspect of good in all of the dismal surrounding it. An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. He wrote poems, short stories and novels. Finally, the poet can't understand what the bird finds to sing about.