ASSIGNMENT: Write a 1000-word critical analysis using one of the poetry analysis prompts below. For this paper assignment, we will continue to work with scholarly sources in order to use what specialists in the genre of poetry have to say and to build upon their work to frame our own views in our our own academic writing. you’ve learned how to effectively read, quote, and respond to sources by furthering the conversation — by either agreeing with a difference, by disagreeing with reasons, or agreeing and disagreeing simultaneously. Now it is time to demonstrate what you’ve learned by critically reading scholarly sources, effectively framing quotations from those sources, and presenting your original viewpoint by using one of the three ways to respond.

Prompt #1:

Compare and contrast any two poems in Backpack Literature that treat a similar theme. Let your comparison bring you to an evaluation of the poems. Which is the stronger, more satisfying one? Essay Outline: The introduction should identify the poems under consideration, their authors, and any necessary background information that is significantly relevant to the main focus of your essay. The introduction should conclude with your original idea (your thesis) presented as a response to an effectively framed quotation from one of the scholarly sources you found. Body paragraphs should support and develop your thesis with specific references to the poems, bolstered by effective responses to your scholarly articles. Be sure to clarify what you “say” from what your source “says”. Your conclusion should place your original argument within a larger, meaningful context for your reader.

Ulalume: A Ballad

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

The skies they were ashen and sober;

The leaves they were crispéd and sere—

The leaves they were withering and sere;

It was night in the lonesome October

Of my most immemorial year;

It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,

In the misty mid region of Weir—

It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,

In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,

Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul—

Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.

These were days when my heart was volcanic

As the scoriac rivers that roll—

As the lavas that restlessly roll

Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek

In the ultimate climes of the pole—

That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek

In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,

But our thoughts they were palsied and sere—

Our memories were treacherous and sere—

For we knew not the month was October,

And we marked not the night of the year—

(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)

We noted not the dim lake of Auber—

(Though once we had journeyed down here)—

We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,

Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent

And star-dials pointed to morn—

As the star-dials hinted of morn—

At the end of our path a liquescent

And nebulous lustre was born,

Out of which a miraculous crescent

Arose with a duplicate horn—

Astarte’s bediamonded crescent

Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said—”She is warmer than Dian:

She rolls through an ether of sighs—

She revels in a region of sighs:

She has seen that the tears are not dry on

These cheeks, where the worm never dies,

And has come past the stars of the Lion

To point us the path to the skies—

To the Lethean peace of the skies—

Come up, in despite of the Lion,

To shine on us with her bright eyes—

Come up through the lair of the Lion,

With love in her luminous eyes.”

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,

Said—”Sadly this star I mistrust—

Her pallor I strangely mistrust:—

Oh, hasten! oh, let us not linger!

Oh, fly!—let us fly!—for we must.”

In terror she spoke, letting sink her

Wings till they trailed in the dust—

In agony sobbed, letting sink her

Plumes till they trailed in the dust—

Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied—”This is nothing but dreaming:

Let us on by this tremulous light!

Let us bathe in this crystalline light!

Its Sybilic splendor is beaming

With Hope and in Beauty to-night:—

See!—it flickers up the sky through the night!

Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,

And be sure it will lead us aright—

We safely may trust to a gleaming

That cannot but guide us aright,

Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night.”

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,

And tempted her out of her gloom—

And conquered her scruples and gloom:

And we passed to the end of the vista,

But were stopped by the door of a tomb—

By the door of a legended tomb;

And I said—”What is written, sweet sister,

On the door of this legended tomb?”

She replied—”Ulalume—Ulalume—

‘Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!”

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober

As the leaves that were crispèd and sere—

As the leaves that were withering and sere,

And I cried—”It was surely October

On
this very night of last year

That I journeyed—I journeyed down here—

That I brought a dread burden down here—

On this night of all nights in the year,

Oh, what demon has tempted me here?

Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber—

This misty mid region of Weir—

Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber—

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