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Personification

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Imagery

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Simile

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Metaphor

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personification

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Simile

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Imagery

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Personification

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personification

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Simile

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metaphor

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personification

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onomatopoeia

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Personification

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Metaphor

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simile

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Imagery

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Personification

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onomatopoeia

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personification

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Alliteration

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personification

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Personification

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onomatopoeia

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Simlie

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Simile

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The comparison of the fire and ice to the world's demise is very interesting.

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alliteration

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Personification

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Author: Poetry of Emily Dickinson Type: Poetry Views: 565The Wind-tapped like a tired Man-
And like a Host-"Come in"
I boldly answered-entered then
My Residence withinA Rapid-footless Guest-
To offer whom a Chair
Were as impossible as hand
A Sofa to the Air-No Bone had He to bind Him-
His Speech was like the Push
Of numerous Humming Birds at once
From a superior Bush-His Countenance-a Billow-
His Fingers, as He passed
Let go a music-as of tunes
Blown tremulous in Glass-He visited-still flitting-
Then like a timid Man
Again, He tapped-'twas flurriedly-
And I became alone-

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'Out-Out', by Robert Frost
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count

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Jazz Fantasia
Drum on your drums, batter on your banjoes,
sob on the long cool winding saxophones.
Go to it, O jazzmen.

Sling your knuckles on the bottoms of the happy
tin pans, let your trombones ooze, and go husha-
husha-hush with the slippery sand-paper.

Moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome treetops,
moan soft like you wanted somebody terrible, cry like a
racing car slipping away from a motorcycle cop, bang-bang!
you jazzmen, bang altogether drums, traps, banjoes, horns,
tin cans — make two people fight on the top of a stairway
and scratch each other's eyes in a clinch tumbling down
the stairs.

Can the rough stuff . . . now a Mississippi steamboat pushes
up the night river with a hoo-hoo-hoo-oo . . . and the green
lanterns calling to the high soft stars . . . a red moon rides
on the humps of the low river hills . . . go to it, O jazzmen.

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Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice. Robert Frost

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A Red, Red Rose
[Hear Red, Red Rose]
1794
Type: Poem

O my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!