Jounal of Poem: The Darkling Thrush


PosterĄG Stan at 13:34:57 11/20/97 from proxy.secc.fju.edu.tw
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Stan (486200224)
Introduction to Literature
Ray
Journal of Poem: The Darkling Thrush
(Poetry: art and nature)
In the presence of the approaching Twentieth Century, the speaker would feel disappoin-
ted and discouraged. In the first stanza, a coppice and the sky scored by tangled bine-stems would be the Twentieth Century-frost spectre-gray seems to indicate something unknown and frightening; the sky is like broken lyre that couldn't be played beautiful songs. How-
ever, in the early spring, frost should be clean, lovely, full of hope and the sky at this time is clean, reminding people of another new circle of life-the image of the newborn century scares me. What does the "Century" mean in the second stanza? I'm not sure-dose it mean the time of Eleventh Century in the speaker's mind had been buried and discarded or he was bereaved for the young age that's meant without energy and vanity? Whatever it is, the speaker would have the sympathy for the both century he lived in: he expresses his worry and sadness about the surroundings he was in with the lines from 13 to 16-where can we find the ancient pulse of germ and birth and why every spirit upon the earth looked fervourless?
The thrush, in our common impression, is the sweet bird that is able to sing pretty songs and that is the natural singer giving compliments to life. But the aged thrush in the poem, is frail, gaunt, and small, in a blast-beruffied plume, probably suffering from somewhat pressure.
The thrush and the speaker would be both singers-the former dose the assignment following its life and the latter uses the words to record loyally the phenomenon he has seen and kept in his mind. Besides, from the lines 23 & 24, the speaker just like the thrush, flings his soul to what he puts emphasis on though the gloom is growing and he never knows what is waiting for him ahead.
The last stanza makes me sorry best and make me have the same thought with the speaker-through the compare with the thrush, what kind of attitude could I hold toward the end and could I be never worried about what I have done? I have no confidence at all. But much more than the above, I'm not certain if the sense of discourage comes from the bottom of his heart or the recognition of others and environment around. As unluckily it would be, being faced the turn between the Twentieth and Twenty-First Century, I don't realize what I can make.


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