Not pay: For my daughter poem analysis
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For my daughter poem analysis Video
A Critical Analysis of digitales.com.au Poem A Prayer For My Daughter digitales.com.au3 English LiteratureIn the poem, a speaker usually read as Yeats himself prays about the type of woman he hopes his daughter will become and the kind of life he hopes she will have. At its core, the poem expresses a father's heartfelt wishes for his newborn daughter.
In a larger sense, "A Prayer for my Daughter" is a rich, complex reflection on the joys and struggles of parenthood, Irish politics, and Yeats's own past. Once more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle But Gregory's wood and one bare hill Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind, Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed; And for an hour I have fog and prayed Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower, And under the arches of the bridge, and scream In the elms above the flooded stream; Imagining in excited reverie For my daughter poem analysis the future years had come, Dancing to a frenzied drum, Out of the murderous innocence of the sea. May she be granted beauty and yet not Beauty to make a stranger's eye distraught, Or hers before a looking-glass, for such, Being made beautiful overmuch, Consider beauty a sufficient end, Lose natural kindness and maybe The heart-revealing intimacy That chooses right, and never find a friend. It's certain that fine women eat A crazy salad with their meat Whereby the Horn of Plenty is undone.
In courtesy I'd have her chiefly learned; Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned By those that are not entirely beautiful; Yet many, that have played the fool For beauty's very self, has charm made wise, And many a poor for my daughter poem analysis that has roved, Loved and thought himself beloved, From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
May she become a flourishing hidden tree That all her thoughts may like the linnet be, And have no business but dispensing round Their magnanimities of sound, Nor but in merriment begin a chase, Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
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O may she live like some green laurel Rooted in one dear perpetual place. My mind, because the minds that I have loved, The sort of beauty that I have approved, Prosper but little, has dried up link late, Yet knows that to be choked with hate May well dor of all evil chances chief. If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.
An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed.
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Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out of the mouth of Plenty's horn, Because of her opinionated mind Barter that horn and every good By quiet natures understood Dughter an old bellows full of angry wind? Considering that, all hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will; She can, though every face should scowl And every windy quarter howl Or every bellows burst, be happy click. And may her bridegroom bring her to a house Where all's accustomed, ceremonious; For arrogance and hatred are the wares Peddled in the thoroughfares.
How anzlysis in custom and in ceremony Are innocence and beauty born? Ceremony's a for my daughter poem analysis for the rich horn, And custom for the spreading laurel tree. Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.]
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