Factory Windows Are Always Broken

Total Page:16

File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb

Factory Windows Are Always Broken

ENGLISH I -- MEMORIZATION: Choose one poem to earn points accordingly. The more challenging poems are worth the most points to you. Remember, you can take a break for -10 points. You must also include the title, publication date, author’s name, and author life dates.

NOTE WELL: Students in the Honors class may ONLY choose MOTHER TO SON. Students with an IEP are allowed to choose the third poem for 100 points.

MOTHER TO SON (1922) 2nd Qtr by Langston Hughes (1902-1967) 100 points

Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor— Bare. But all the time I’se been a-climbin’ on, And reachin’ landin’s, And turnin’ corners, And sometimes goin’ in the dark Where there ain’t been no light. So boy, don’t you turn back. Don’t you set down on the steps ’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard. Don’t you fall now— For I’se still goin’, honey, I’se still climbin’, And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

______OR ______“HOPE” IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS (1861) 2nd Qtr by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) 85 pts

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

______OR ______

THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE (1904) 2nd Qtr by Oliver Herford (1863-1935) 70 pts

Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf, Out of the rain, to shelter himself.

Under the toadstool sound asleep, Sat a big dormouse all in a heap.

Trembled the wee Elf, frightened, and yet Fearing to fly away lest he get wet.

To the next shelter--maybe a mile! Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile,

Tugged till the toadstool toppled in tow. Holding it over him, gayly he flew.

Soon he was safe home, dry as could be. Soon woke the Dormouse--"Good gracious me!

"Where is my toadstool?" loud he lamented. --And that's how umbrellas first were invented.

Recommended publications