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Registered in England and Wales No. 872828 Registered Ofce: Edinburgh Gate, Harlow, Essex CM20 2JE The Pearson Edexcel GCSE (9-1) English Literature VAT Reg No GB 278 537121 Poetry Anthology should be used to prepare for Component 2 of your assessment Collection B A Poison Tree (1794) 24 Catrin (1978) 34 William Blake Gillian Clarke The Destruction of Sennacherib (1815) 25 War Photographer (1987) 35 Lord Byron Carole Satyamurti Extract from The Prelude (1850) 26 Belfast Confetti (1990) 36 William Wordsworth Ciaran Carson The Man He Killed (1902) 27 The Class Game (1981) 37 Thomas Hardy Mary Casey Cousin Kate (1860) 28 Poppies (2005) 38 Christina Rossetti Jane Weir Half-caste (1996) 29 No Problem (1996) 39 John Agard Benjamin Zephaniah Exposure (1917) 30 What Were They Like? (1967) 40 Wilfred Owen Denise Levertov The Charge of the Light Brigade (1854) 32 Alfred, Lord Tennyson 23 A Poison Tree I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. 5 And I water’d it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, 10 Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had veil’d the pole: 15 In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch’d beneath the tree. William Blake 24 Collection B The Destruction of Sennacherib The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 5 Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay wither’d and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, 10 And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass’d; And the eyes of the sleepers wax’d deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll’d not the breath of his pride: 15 And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 20 The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! Lord Byron 25 Extract from The Prelude One summer evening (led by her) I found As if with voluntary power instinct, A little boat tied to a willow tree Upreared its head. I struck and struck again, Within a rocky cove, its usual home. 25 And growing still in stature the grim shape Straight I unloosed her chain, and stepping in Towered up between me and the stars, and still, 5 Pushed from the shore. It was an act of stealth For so it seemed, with purpose of its own And troubled pleasure, nor without the voice And measured motion like a living thing, Of mountain-echoes did my boat move on; Strode after me. With trembling oars I turned, Leaving behind her still, on either side, 30 And through the silent water stole my way Small circles glittering idly in the moon, Back to the covert of the willow tree; 10 Until they melted all into one track There in her mooring-place I left my bark, – Of sparkling light. But now, like one who rows, And through the meadows homeward went, in grave Proud of his skill, to reach a chosen point And serious mood; but after I had seen With an unswerving line, I f xed my view 35 That spectacle, for many days, my brain Upon the summit of a craggy ridge, Worked with a dim and undetermined sense 15 The horizon’s utmost boundary; far above Of unknown modes of being; o’er my thoughts Was nothing but the stars and the grey sky. There hung a darkness, call it solitude She was an elf n pinnace; lustily Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes I dipped my oars into the silent lake, 40 Remained, no pleasant images of trees, And, as I rose upon the stroke, my boat Of sea or sky, no colours of green f elds; 20 Went heaving through the water like a swan; But huge and mighty forms, that do not live When, from behind that craggy steep till then Like living men, moved slowly through the mind The horizon’s bound, a huge peak, black and huge, By day, and were a trouble to my dreams. William Wordsworth 26 Collection B The Man He Killed ‘Had he and I but met By some old ancient inn, We should have sat us down to wet Right many a nipperkin! 5 ‘But ranged as infantry, And staring face to face, I shot at him as he at me, And killed him in his place. ‘I shot him dead because – 10 Because he was my foe, Just so: my foe of course he was; That’s clear enough; although ‘He thought he’d ’list, perhaps, Off-hand like – just as I – 15 Was out of work – had sold his traps – No other reason why. ‘Yes; quaint and curious war is! You shoot a fellow down You’d treat if met where any bar is, 20 Or help to half-a-crown.’ Thomas Hardy 27 Cousin Kate I was a cottage-maiden 25 Because you were so good and pure Hardened by sun and air, He bound you with his ring: Contented with my cottage-mates, The neighbours call you good and pure, Not mindful I was fair. Call me an outcast thing. 5 Why did a great lord f nd me out Even so I sit and howl in dust And praise my f axen hair? 30 You sit in gold and sing: Why did a great lord f nd me out Now which of us has tenderer heart? To f ll my heart with care? You had the stronger wing. He lured me to his palace-home – O Cousin Kate, my love was true, 10 Woe’s me for joy thereof – Your love was writ in sand: To lead a shameless shameful life, 35 If he had fooled not me but you, His plaything and his love. If you stood where I stand, He wore me like a golden knot, He had not won me with his love He changed me like a glove: Nor bought me with his land: 15 So now I moan an unclean thing I would have spit into his face Who might have been a dove. 40 And not have taken his hand. O Lady Kate, my Cousin Kate, Yet I’ve a gift you have not got You grow more fair than I: And seem not like to get: He saw you at your father’s gate, For all your clothes and wedding-ring 20 Chose you and cast me by. I’ve little doubt you fret. He watched your steps along the lane, 45 My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride, Your sport among the rye: Cling closer, closer yet: He lifted you from mean estate Your sire would give broad lands for one To sit with him on high. To wear his coronet. Christina Rossetti 28 Collection B Half-caste Excuse me Explain yuself standing on one leg wha yu mean I’m half-caste Ah listening to yu wid de keen half of mih ear Explain yuself 35 Ah lookin at yu wid de keen 5 wha yu mean half of mih eye when you say half-caste and when I’m introduced to yu yu mean when picasso I’m sure you’ll understand mix red an green why I offer yu half-a-hand is a half-caste canvas/ 40 an when I sleep at night 10 explain yuself I close half-a-eye wha yu mean consequently when I dream when yu say half-caste I dream half-a-dream yu mean when light an shadow an when moon begin to glow mix in de sky 45 I half-caste human being 15 is a half-caste weather/ cast half-a-shadow well in dat case but yu must come back tomorrow england weather wid de whole of yu eye nearly always half-caste an de whole of yu ear in fact some o dem cloud 50 an de whole of yu mind 20 half-caste till dem overcast so spiteful dem dont want de sun pass an I will tell yu ah rass/ de other half explain yuself of my story wha yu mean John Agard 25 when you say half-caste yu mean tchaikovsky sit down at dah piano an mix a black key wid a white key 30 is a half-caste symphony/ 29 Exposure Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us… Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent… Low, drooping f ares confuse our memories of the salient… Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous, 5 But nothing happens.