Rachel’s Thoughts: Ode

Due to various assorted confusing misunderstandings and hectic end-of-senior-year stuff, I had to write two final stanzas for this Ode. Odes are supposed to be five verses, each with fourteen lines. This one is six verses, but the sixth one can be used in place of the fifth one (hence some repetition). 🙂

To the Sea:

This is not my image: courtesy of the Internet.

O deepest Sea, beneath thy stormy eye

Lies all the wealth the bounteous earth commands;

Above thy foam the flocking seabirds fly.

Your gleaming spray is tossed by playful hands,

And pearls encrust thy skeleton sublime;

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Rachel’s Thoughts: Sonnet: On Love

For my Lit class.

Though some say love is just a game for two,

Perhaps a star-struck moment, shared, then gone,

I strongly think these passions are not few;

Yet maiden hearts are never eas’ly won.

For many women fair have stood and mocked

Their lovers’ plight, and scorned the proffered hearts

Until their knights can free from dungeon locked

Their captive souls; then none can stop love’s darts.

Believest thou in love at earlie’st sight,

Or need he pass again? Throw not away

His love, lest thou be in some dreadful plight

Alone. Best love and live another day;

For I myself have love´d great (but lost);

True love is best, no matter what the cost.

Rachel’s Thoughts: Brit Lit Assignment: Part 2

In addition to the sonnet in my last post, I’m memorizing Jaques’ speech from As You Like It:

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Rachel’s Thoughts: Brit Lit Assignment, Part 1

Our British Literature teacher has given us a variety of Shakespeare to memorize (quiz a week from today), and this is the sonnet I’ve chosen to memorize: Sonnet 116

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved. “

Rachel’s Thoughts: The Genius of Spenser

In my British Literature class, we just finished reading Spenser’s Faerie Queene (Book I), and now we’re going through assorted sonnets. This one was particularly beautiful. Spenser, Amoretti, Sonnet XV:

YE tradefull Merchants that with weary toil,
do seek most precious things to make your gain:
and both the Indias of their treasures spoil,
what needeth you to seek so far in vain?
For lo my love doth in her self contain
all this world’s riches that may far be found;
if Sapphires, lo her eyes be Sapphires plain,
if Rubies, lo her lips be Rubies found;
If Pearls, her teeth be pearls both pure and round;
if Ivory, her forehead ivory ween;
if Gold, her locks are finest gold on ground;
if silver, her fair hands are silver sheen,
But that which fairest is, but few behold,
her mind adorned with virtues manifold.

Rachel’s Thoughts: Sonnet: How to Train Your Dragon

Another sonnet, this one slightly more ludicrous than the last.


The dragon lays so still, a crumpled heap

Of scales and flame, a smoldering wreck of glory.

His eyes are shut; he rests now; snores, asleep.

So great his tale, unparalleled his story.


Once great he soared, the monarch of the skies,

Then caught by stealth, the trap of one young boy.

In fear he fled, in pain and turmoil cries;

His tail a hole had grown, the kid’s smart ploy.


He crashed to earth and hid within a vale,

He rescued him, on brink of death and saved

The frightful beast, although with cheeks so pale

And friendship grew; companionship they craved.


So thus came Toothless, joining Hiccup gladly.

He sleeps there now till Death will claim him sadly.

Rachel’s Thoughts: Sonnet: Guy Fawkes

Here is another of my sonnets for my Brit Lit class. We were supposed to evoke an emotion in our sonnet, and in typical sonnet form, have a turn at the end.


His mangled form lay twisted, torn and wrecked,

By fire burned, his corpse all singed and black;

His eyes as blank as if they had been pecked.

He crumbled; fell, to ashes in a sack.


His flaming life departed slowly, fled

The binding cord that held his soul to earth.

Impassive face from which emotion sped

Did calmly die, and wait the years’ rebirth.


The spark of life now gone, this heap of ash

There lies, unmourned by kith or kin, alone,

Abandoned, small, deserted. Gone the flashed

Concern of passers-by, the care once shown.


The ashes lay there now, the lingering sign

Of Guy, the phoenix Fawkes, a man of pine.