For the Unit 4 Complete assignment, select ONE of the poems listed below and write an essay (minimum of 1000 words) which addresses the questions and statements below. Review the guidelines and examples for writing an explication in chapters 6 and 15. When finished, the essay should demonstrate a thorough understanding of the READ and ATTEND sections. A minimum of three scholarly sources are required, and all sources should be cited and referenced in APA format.
- Who is the speaker of the poem? What do you know about him/her? What is the speaker’s attitude toward himself/herself? Toward his/her subject? How do you know?
- What images stand out in the poem? How do they contribute to the meaning of the poem?
- What how does the language of the poem contribute to its overall meaning or effect? How do the connotations of certain words (for instance, dad rather than father) help to establish the meaning? What types of figurative language is used? How does the figurative language contribute the poem’s meaning?
- How is the structure of the poem important? What is the significance of the title? Is the poem divided into stanzas? If so, why are the lines grouped in this way (e.g., do the different stanzas indicates some shift in focus, thought, mood, etc.)? How does the poem end? What idea is emphasized with that ending?
- What aspect of the human experience does the poem explore and what does it seem to say about that idea? Do you agree or disagree with this idea? How can you relate?
Robert Frost, “The Wood Pile” (pages 820-821)
The Wood-Pile
Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day,
I paused and said, “I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther—and we shall see.”
5 The hard snow held me, save where now and then
One foot went through. The view was all in lines
Straight up and down of tall slim trees
Too much alike to mark or name a place by
So as to say for certain I was here
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
10 A small bird flew before me. He was careful
To put a tree between us when he lighted,
And say no word to tell me who he was
Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
He thought that I was after him for a feather—
15 The white one in his tail; like one who takes
Everything said as personal to himself.
One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
20 Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand.
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
25 And not another like it could I see.
No runner tracks in this year’s snow looped near it.
30 And it was older sure than this year’s cutting,
Or even last year’s or the year’s before.
The wood was grey and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
What held it though on one side was a tree
Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
These latter about to fall. I thought that only
35 Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
Could so forget his handiwork on which
He spent himself, the labour of his axe,
And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
40 To warm the frozen swamps as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
[1914]
Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day,
I paused and said, “I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther—and we shall see.”
5 The hard snow held me, save where now and then
One foot went through. The view was all in lines
Straight up and down of tall slim trees
Too much alike to mark or name a place by
So as to say for certain I was here
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
10 A small bird flew before me. He was careful
To put a tree between us when he lighted,
And say no word to tell me who he was
Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
He thought that I was after him for a feather—
15 The white one in his tail; like one who takes
Everything said as personal to himself.
One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
20 Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand.
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled—and measured, four by four by eight.
25 And not another like it could I see.
No runner tracks in this year’s snow looped near it.
30 And it was older sure than this year’s cutting,
Or even last year’s or the year’s before.
The wood was grey and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
What held it though on one side was a tree
Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
These latter about to fall. I thought that only
35 Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
Could so forget his handiwork on which
He spent himself, the labour of his axe,
And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
40 To warm the frozen swamps as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
[1914]