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Suicide In The Trenches Siegfried Sassoon I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go.   Siegfried Sassoon He was born to a wealthy Jewish family in 1886. His mother named him Siegfried, for her love of Wagner’s operas.    He was the second of three sons. He was educated at the New Beacon School and Marlborough College and at Clare College, Cambridge.   He spent few years in playing cricket and writing verse.   He wanted to play for Kent County Cricket Club. He was married toHester Gatty who was twenty years younger to him.   They had a child, whom he admired s...

Design Robert Frost   I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth-- Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches' broth-- A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth, And dead wings carried like a paper kite. What had that flower to do with being white, The wayside blue and innocent heal-all? What brought the kindred spider to that height, Then steered the white moth thither in the night? What but design of darkness to appall?-- If design govern in a thing so small.   Robert Frost   Robert Lee Frost was an American poet.  He was born on March, 1874,  his works were published in England before they were published in United States.  His works were well known for its realistic style and simple life style.  Robert Frost’s works were based with the rural setting of 20 th ...

Spring and Fall  To a young child By Gerard Manley Hopkins Márgarét, áre you gríeving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leáves like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! ás the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you wíll weep and know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed: It ís the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.   Gerard Manley Hopkins He was born on 28 th July 1844.   He was the eldest of the nine children. He was a Jesuit priest and an English poet.   Hopkins wanted to be a painter, he was inspired by the works of John Ruskin and the Pre Raphaelites. But his siblings were much into language, religion and creative arts.   Hopkins migrated with his family to Hampstead in 1852 ne...

Among School Children By William Butler Yeats. I   I walk through the long schoolroom questioning; A kind old nun in a white hood replies; The children learn to cipher and to sing, To study reading-books and history, To cut and sew, be neat in everything In the best modern way—the children's eyes In momentary wonder stare upon A sixty-year-old smiling public man.   II   I dream of a Ledaean body, bent Above a sinking fire, a tale that she Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event That changed some childish day to tragedy— Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent Into a sphere from youthful sympathy, Or else, to alter Plato's parable, Into the yolk and white of the one shell.   III   And thinking of that fit of grief or rage I look upon one child or t'other there And wonder if she stood so at that age— For even daughters of the swan can share Something of every paddler's heritage— And had that colour upon ch...