But what’s the Thorn? and what the pond? And what the hill of moss t
plethora of questions and stanza 20 demonstrate the narrator's eagerness towards the myth
But what’s the Thorn? and what the pond? And what the hill of moss t
plethora of questions and stanza 20 demonstrate the narrator's eagerness towards the myth
plain it is the Thorn is bound With heavy tufts of moss that strive To drag it to the ground;
same description as the beginning
some had sworn an oath that she Should be to public justice brought; And for the
some people are outraged by her
I do not think she could!
the narrator doesn't think that she killed the baby?
Instead of jutting crag, I found A Woman seated on the ground.
he thought that the woman was a cliff to take cover from the rain
I will be sworn is true.
the narrator trying to prove that the woman is real by his anecdote
More know I not
no one knows what actually happend to the baby
And, when at last her time drew near, Her looks were calm, her senses clear.
confused about this part
Her state to any eye was plain; She was with child, and she was mad;
She was pregnant and a "mad woman"
fire was kindled in her breast, Which might not burn itself to rest.
an evergreen fire started burning in her chest
A pang of pitiless dismay
never ending dismay and sadness
she was blithe and gay,
20 years ago she was going to marry Stephen Hill -- she was so happy and everyone around her was happy, until at the last minute, Stephen married another person
I never heard of such as dare Approach the spot when she is there.”
everyone's too scared to approach her
“
quotations of the people in her community asking questions and speculating
she sits When the blue daylight’s in the skies, And when the whirlwind’s on the hill, Or frosty air is keen and still,
describing how she is there day and night, through all the times of the year
wretched Woman
wretched: in a very unhappy or unfortunate state
Oh misery! oh misery! Oh woe is me! oh misery!
evidently very distressed -- repeats this many times throughout the poem (has been doing this for 20 years)
scarlet cloak
Reminds me of the Scarlet Letter, a novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne about a woman who commited adultry and her child
grave was half so fair.
stanza starts out happy, but then ends on a chill note with the mention of the child's grave
Ah me! what lovely tints are there Of olive gr
Picks up pace with iambic pentameter
deep is their vermilion dye.
vermillion dye is a really bright red that represents the color of blood/life
There is a fresh and lovely sight, A beauteous heap, a hill of moss
a sight of beauty among the strange thorn and muddy pond
a little muddy pond Of water—never dry
muddy water --> something pure is now muddy it never evaporates even though it's exposed to the burning sun
And all have joined in one endeavour
describing the moss growing out of the earth as a melancholy medium to take it back down to the earth. The earth is portrayed as all-knowing, and sad, but forgiving
Like rock or stone, it is o’ergrown, With
repitition of last part of last stanza
knotted joints
the imagery of the thorn is strange -- although the thorn is a thorn, it is described to be not prickly, just a mass
higher than a two years’ child
forshadowing