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Edexcel GCSE
Unseen Poem
Preparation Anthology
GCSE English and English Literature
ALWAY S L E A R N I NG
The Thought-Fox 2
Ted Hughes
Digging3
Seamus Heaney
Colonel Fazackerley 4
Charles Causley
Everyone Sang  6
Siegfried Sassoon
And Still I Rise 7
MayaAngelou
How Do I Love Thee? 8
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Hope is the thing with feathers  9
Emily Dickinson
First Love  10
John Clare
Annabel Lee  11
EdgarAllan Poe
The Road Not Taken 13
Robert Frost
Variations on the word love 14
MargaretAtwood
City lilacs 15
Helen Dunmore
Last Lesson of the Afternoon 16
DH Lawrence
At Castle Boterel  17
Thomas Hardy
In Salutation to the Eternal Peace 18
Sarojini Naidu
1
U�een Poem
 Preparation �nthology
2
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 The Thought-Fox
	 I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
	 Something else is alive
	 Beside the clock’s loneliness
	 And this blank page where my fingers move.
5	 Through the window I see no star:
	 Something more near
	 Though deeper within darkness
	 Is entering the loneliness:
	 Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
10	 A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;
	 Two eyes serve a movement, that now
	 And again now, and now, and now
	 Sets neat prints into the snow
	 Between trees, and warily a lame
15	 Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
	 Of a body that is bold to come
	 Across clearings, an eye,
	 A widening deepening greenness,
	 Brilliantly, concentratedly,
20	 Coming about its own business
	 Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
	 It enters the dark hole of the head.
	 The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
	 The page is printed.
	 Ted Hughes
The Thought-Fox by Ted Hughes
3
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology Digging by Seamus Heaney
	Digging
	 Between my finger and my thumb
	 The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.
	 Under my window, a clean rasping sound
	 When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
5	 My father, digging. I look down
	 Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
	 Bends low, comes up twenty years away
	 Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
	 Where he was digging.
10	 The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
	 Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
	 He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
	 To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
	 Loving their cool hardness in our hands.
15	 By God, the old man could handle a spade.
	 Just like his old man.
	 My grandfather cut more turf in a day
	 Than any other man on Toner’s bog.
	 Once I carried him milk in a bottle
20	 Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
	 To drink it, then fell to right away
	 Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
	 Over his shoulder, going down and down
	 For the good turf. Digging.
25	 The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
	 Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
	 Through living roots awaken in my head.
	 But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.
	 Between my finger and my thumb
30	 The squat pen rests.
	 I’ll dig with it.
	 Seamus Heaney
4
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 Colonel Fazackerley
	 Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast
	 Bought an old castle complete with a ghost,
	 But someone or other forgot to declare
	 To Colonel Fazack that the spectre was there.
5	 On the very first evening, while waiting to dine,
	 The Colonel was taking a fine sherry wine,
	 When the ghost, with a furious flash and a flare,
	 Shot out of the chimney and shivered, 'Beware!'
	 Colonel Fazackerley put down his glass
10	 And said, 'My dear fellow, that's really first class!
	 I just can't conceive how you do it at all.
	 I imagine you're going to a Fancy Dress Ball?'
	 At this, the dread ghost gave a withering cry.
	 Said the Colonel (his monocle firm in his eye),
15	 'Now just how you do it I wish I could think.
	 Do sit down and tell me, and please have a drink.'
	 The ghost in his phosphorous cloak gave a roar
	 And floated about between ceiling and floor.
	 He walked through a wall and returned through a pane
20	 And backed up the chimney and came down again.
	 Said the Colonel, 'With laughter I'm feeling quite weak!'
	 (As trickles of merriment ran down his cheek).
	 'My house-warming party I hope you won't spurn.
	You must say you'll come and you'll give us a turn!'
Colonel Fazackerley by Charles Causley
continue
5
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
25	 Whereupon, the poor spectre - quite out of his wits -
	 Proceeded to shake himself almost to bits.
	 He rattled his chains and he clattered his bones
	 And he filled the whole castle with mumbles and moans.
	 But Colonel Fazackerley, just as before,
30	 Was simply delighted and called out, 'Encore!'
	 At which the ghost vanished, his efforts in vain,
	 And never was seen at the castle again.
	 'Oh dear, what a pity!' said Colonel Fazack.
	 'I don't know his name, so I can't call him back.'
35	 And then with a smile that was hard to define,
	 Colonel Fazackerley went in to dine.
	 Charles Causley
Colonel Fazackerley by Charles Causley
6
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 Everyone Sang
	 Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
	 And I was filled with such delight
	 As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
	 Winging wildly across the white
5	 Orchards and dark-green fields; on–on–and out of sight.
	 Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted;
	 And beauty came like the setting sun:
	 My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
	 Drifted away ... O, but Everyone
10	 Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.
	 Siegfried Sassoon
Everyone Sang by Siegfried Sassoon
7
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 And Still I Rise
	 You may write me down in history
	 With your bitter, twisted lies,
	 You may trod me in the very dirt
	 But still, like the dust, I'll rise.
5	 Does my sassiness upset you?
	 Why are you beset with gloom?
	 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
	 Pumping in my living room.
	 Just like moons and like suns,
10	 With the certainty of tides,
	 Just like hopes springing high,
	 Still I'll rise.
	 Did you want to see me broken?
	 Bowed head and lowered eyes?
15	 Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
	 Weakened by my soulful cries.
	 Does my haughtiness offend you?
	 Don't you take it awful hard
	 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
20	 Diggin' in my own back yard.
	 You may shoot me with your words,
	 You may cut me with your eyes,
	 You may kill me with your hatefulness,
	 But still, like the air, I'll rise.
25	 Does my sexiness upset you?
	 Does it come as a surprise
	 That I dance like I've got diamonds
	 At the meeting of my thighs?
	 Out of the huts of history's shame
30	 I rise
	 Up from a past that's rooted in pain
	 I rise
	 I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
	 Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
35	 Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
	 I rise
	 Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
	 I rise
	 Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
40	 I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
	 I rise
	 I rise
	 I rise.
	 MayaAngelou
And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
8
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 How Do I Love Thee?
	 How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
	 I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
	 My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
	 For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
5	 I love thee to the level of everyday’s
	 Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
	 I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
	 I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
	 I love thee with the passion put to use
10	 In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
	 I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
	 With my lost saints—I love thee with the breath,
	 Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
	 I shall but love thee better after death.
	 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
9
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 Hope is the thing with feathers
	 'Hope' is the thing with feathers –
	 That perches in the soul –
	 And sings the tune without the words –
	 And never stops – at all –
5	 And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
	 And sore must be the storm –
	 That could abash the little Bird
	 That kept so many warm –
	 I've heard it in the chillest land –
10	 And on the strangest Sea –
	 Yet – never – in Extremity,
	 It asked a crumb – of Me.
	 Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
10
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 First Love
	 I ne'er was struck before that hour
		 With love so sudden and so sweet;
	 Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
		 And stole my heart away complete.
5	 My face turned pale as deadly pale
		 My legs refused to walk away
	 And when she looked, what could I ail –
		 My life and all seemed turned to clay.
	 And then my blood rushed to my face,
10		 And took my eyesight quite away;
	 The trees and bushes round the place
		 Seemed midnight at noonday.
	 I could not see a single thing
		 Words from my eyes did start –
15	 They spoke as chords do from the string
		 And blood burnt round my heart.
	 Are flowers the winter's choice?
		 Is love's bed always snow?
	 She seemed to hear my silent voice
20		 Not love's appeals to know.
	 I never saw so sweet a face
		 As that I stood before;
	 My heart has left its dwelling-place
		 And can return no more.
	 John Clare
First Love by John Clare
11
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 Annabel Lee
	 It was many and many a year ago,
		 In a kingdom by the sea,
	 That a maiden there lived whom you may know
		 By the name of Annabel Lee;—
5	 And this maiden she lived with no other thought
		 Than to love and be loved by me.
	 I was a child and she was a child,
		 In this kingdom by the sea,
	 But we loved with a love that was more than love—
10	 	 I and my Annabel Lee—
	 With a love that the wingèd seraphs in Heaven
		 Coveted her and me.
	 And this was the reason that, long ago,
		 In this kingdom by the sea,
15	 A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
		 My beautiful Annabel Lee;
	 So that her high-born kinsman came
		 And bore her away from me,
	 To shut her up in a sepulcher
20		 In this kingdom by the sea.
	 The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
		 Went envying her and me:—
	 Yes!— that was the reason (as all men know,
		 In this kingdom by the sea)
25	 That the wind came out of the cloud, by night,
		 Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
continue
12
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 But our love it was stronger by far than the love
		 Of those who were older than we—
	 Of many far wiser than we—
30		 And neither the angels in Heaven above,
	 Nor the demons down under the sea,
		 Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
	 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:—
	 For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
35		 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
	 And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
		 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
	 And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
		 Of my darling,— my darling,— my life and my bride,
40	 In the sepulcher there by the sea—
		 In her tomb by the sounding sea.
	 EdgarAllan Poe
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
13
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 The Road Not Taken
	 Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
	 And sorry I could not travel both
	 And be one traveler, long I stood
	 And looked down one as far as I could
5	 To where it bent in the undergrowth;
	 Then took the other, as just as fair,
	 And having perhaps the better claim
	 Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
	 Though as for that the passing there
10	 Had worn them really about the same,
	 And both that morning equally lay
	 In leaves no step had trodden black.
	 Oh, I kept the first for another day!
	 Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
15	 I doubted if I should ever come back.
	 I shall be telling this with a sigh
	 Somewhere ages and ages hence:
	 Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
	 I took the one less traveled by,
20	 And that has made all the difference.
	 Robert Frost
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
14
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 Variations on the word love
	 This is a word we use to plug
	 holes with. It's the right size for those warm
	 blanks in speech, for those red heart-
	 shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
5	 like real hearts. Add lace
	 and you can sell
	 it. We insert it also in the one empty
	 space on the printed form
	 that comes with no instructions. There are whole
10	 magazines with not much in them
	 but the word love, you can
	 rub it all over your body and you
	 can cook with it too. How do we know
	 it isn't what goes on at the cool
15	 debaucheries of slugs under damp
	 pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
	 seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
	 among the lettuces, they shout it.
	 Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising
20	 their glittering knives in salute.
Variations on the word love by Margaret Atwood
	 Then there's the two
	 of us. This word
	 is far too short for us, it has only
	 four letters, too sparse
25	 to fill those deep bare
	 vacuums between the stars
	 that press on us with their deafness.
	 It's not love we don't wish
	 to fall into, but that fear.
30	 This word is not enough but it will
	 have to do. It's a single
	 vowel in this metallic
	 silence, a mouth that says
	 O again and again in wonder
35	 and pain, a breath, a finger
	 grip on a cliffside. You can
	 hold on or let go.
	 MargaretAtwood
15
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 City lilacs
	 In crack-haunted alleys, overhangs,
	 plots of sour earth that pass for gardens,
	 in the space between wall and wheelie bin,
	 where men with mobiles make urgent conversation,
5	 where bare-legged girls shiver in April winds,
	 where a new mother stands on her doorstep and blinks
	 at the brightness of morning, so suddenly born —
	 in all these places the city lilacs are pushing
	 their cones of blossom into the spring
10	 to be taken by the warm wind.
	 Lilac, like love, makes no distinction.
	 It will open for anyone.
	 Even before love knows that it is love
	 lilac knows it must blossom.
15	 In crack-haunted alleys, in overhangs,
	 in somebody’s front garden
	 abandoned to crisp packets and cans,
	 on landscaped motorway roundabouts,
	 in the depth of parks
20	 where men and women are lost in transactions
	 of flesh and cash, where mobiles ring
	 and the deal is done — here the city lilacs
	 release their sweet, wild perfume
	 then bow down, heavy with rain.
	 Helen Dunmore
City lilacs by Helen Dunmore
16
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 Last Lesson of the Afternoon
	 When will the bell ring, and end this weariness?
	 How long have they tugged the leash, and strained apart,
	 My pack of unruly hounds! I cannot start
	 Them again on a quarry of knowledge they hate to hunt,
5	 I can haul them and urge them no more.
	 No longer now can I endure the brunt
	 Of the books that lie out on the desks; a full threescore
	 Of several insults of blotted pages, and scrawl
	 Of slovenly work that they have offered me.
10	 I am sick, and what on earth is the good of it all?
	 What good to them or me, I cannot see!
		 So, shall I take
	 My last dear fuel of life to heap on my soul
	 And kindle my will to a flame that shall consume
15	 Their dross of indifference; and take the toll
	 Of their insults in punishment? — I will not!—
	 I will not waste my soul and my strength for this.
	 What do I care for all that they do amiss!
	 What is the point of this teaching of mine, and of this
20	 Learning of theirs? It all goes down the same abyss.
	 What does it matter to me, if they can write
	 A description of a dog, or if they can't?
	 What is the point? To us both, it is all my aunt!
	 And yet I’m supposed to care, with all my might.
25	 I do not, and will not; they won’t and they don’t; and that’s all!
	 I shall keep my strength for myself; they can keep theirs as well.
	 Why should we beat our heads against the wall
	 Of each other? I shall sit and wait for the bell.
	 DH Lawrence
Last Lesson of the Afternoon by DH Lawrence
17
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 At Castle Boterel
	 As I drive to the junction of lane and highway,
		 And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,
	 I look behind at the fading byway,
		 And see on its slope, now glistening wet,
5			Distinctly yet
	 Myself and a girlish form benighted
		 In dry March weather. We climb the road
	 Beside a chaise. We had just alighted
		 To ease the sturdy pony’s load
10			 When he sighed and slowed.
	 What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of
		 Matters not much, nor to what it led, —
	 Something that life will not be balked of
		 Without rude reason till hope is dead,
15			 And feeling fled.
At Castle Boterel by Thomas Hardy
	 It filled but a minute. But was there ever
		 A time of such quality, since or before,
	 In that hill’s story? To one mind never,
		 Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore,
20			 By thousands more.
	 Primaeval rocks form the road’s steep border,
		 And much have they faced there, first and last,
	 Of the transitory in Earth’s long order;
		 But what they record in colour and cast
25			 Is - that we two passed.
	 And to me, though Time’s unflinching rigour,
		 In mindless rote, has ruled from sight
	 The substance now, one phantom figure
		 Remains on the slope, as when that night
30			 Saw us alight.
	 I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking,
		 I look back at it amid the rain
	 For the very last time; for my sand is sinking,
		 And I shall traverse old love’s domain
35			Never again.
	 Thomas Hardy
18
U�een Poem
	 Preparation �nthology
	 In Salutation to the Eternal Peace
	 Men say the world is full of fear and hate,
	 And all life’s ripening harvest-fields await
	 The restless sickle of relentless fate.
	 But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born,
5	 When from the climbing terraces of corn
	 I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn.
	 What care I for the world’s desire and pride,
	 Who know the silver wings that gleam and glide,
	 The homing pigeons of Thine eventide?
10	 What care I for the world’s loud weariness,
	 Who dream in twilight granaries Thou dost bless
	 With delicate sheaves of mellow silences?
	 Say, shall I heed dull presages of doom,
	 Or dread the rumoured loneliness and gloom,
15	 The mute and mythic terror of the tomb?
	 For my glad heart is drunk and drenched with Thee,
	 O inmost wine of living ecstasy;
	 O intimate essence of eternity!
	 Sarojini Naidu
In Salutation to the Eternal Peace by Sarojini Naidu
Published by Pearson Education Limited, Edinburgh Gate, Harlow, Essex, CM20 2JE.
www.pearsonschoolsandfecolleges.co.uk
For use with the Edexcel English Literature specification.
Copies of official specifications for all Edexcel qualifications may be found on the Edexcel website: www.edexcel.com
© Pearson Education Limited 2013
Audio recorded by Pearson Education Limited
First published 2013
Acknowledgements
Cover images: Alamy Images: Colin Crisford; Getty Images: Jason Hosking; iStockphoto: Simon Alvinge,
Huseyin Tuncer.
‘The Thought Fox’ by Ted Hughes © Ted Hughes was taken from The Hawk in the Rain, published by Faber  Faber,
2003; ‘Digging’ by Seamus Heaney © Seamus Heaney, was taken from New Selected Poems 1966-1987, published
by Faber  Faber, 2002; ‘Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast’ by Charles Causley © Charles Causley, from
the book: I HadA Little Cat published by Macmillan Children’s Books, 2009. Used by permission of David Higham
Associates; ‘Everyone Sang’ by Siegfried Sassoon © Siegfried Sassoon from Collected Poems 1908-1956 published
by Faber  Faber 1961, used by kind permission of the Estate of George Sassoon; ‘Still I Rise’, copyright © 1978 by
Maya Angelou, from And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House Inc., USA and Little
Brown Book Group; ‘The Road Not Taken’ by Robert Frost, © Robert Frost, taken from Collected Poems published
by Random House and Henry Holt and Company; ‘Variations on the Word Love’ by Margaret Atwood, used by
permission of the Author. Available in Selected Poems, 1966-1984, published by McClelland and Stewart, Canada,
© Margaret Atwood 1990; ‘City Lilacs’ by Helen Dunmore, taken from Glad OfTheseTimes, used by permission of
Bloodaxe books © Helen Dunmore, 2007; ‘In Salutation to the Eternal Peace’ by Sarojini Naidu, taken from: Sarojini
Naidu’s Poetry: Melody Of Indianness, published by Sarup  Sons, © Sarojini Naidu, 2003.
Every effort has been made to contact copyright holders of material reproduced in this book. Any omissions will be
rectified in subsequent printings if notice is given to the publishers.

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Unseen poem preparation anthology

  • 1. Edexcel GCSE Unseen Poem Preparation Anthology GCSE English and English Literature ALWAY S L E A R N I NG
  • 2. The Thought-Fox 2 Ted Hughes Digging3 Seamus Heaney Colonel Fazackerley 4 Charles Causley Everyone Sang 6 Siegfried Sassoon And Still I Rise 7 MayaAngelou How Do I Love Thee? 8 Elizabeth Barrett Browning Hope is the thing with feathers 9 Emily Dickinson First Love 10 John Clare Annabel Lee 11 EdgarAllan Poe The Road Not Taken 13 Robert Frost Variations on the word love 14 MargaretAtwood City lilacs 15 Helen Dunmore Last Lesson of the Afternoon 16 DH Lawrence At Castle Boterel 17 Thomas Hardy In Salutation to the Eternal Peace 18 Sarojini Naidu 1 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology
  • 3. 2 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology The Thought-Fox I imagine this midnight moment’s forest: Something else is alive Beside the clock’s loneliness And this blank page where my fingers move. 5 Through the window I see no star: Something more near Though deeper within darkness Is entering the loneliness: Cold, delicately as the dark snow, 10 A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf; Two eyes serve a movement, that now And again now, and now, and now Sets neat prints into the snow Between trees, and warily a lame 15 Shadow lags by stump and in hollow Of a body that is bold to come Across clearings, an eye, A widening deepening greenness, Brilliantly, concentratedly, 20 Coming about its own business Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed. Ted Hughes The Thought-Fox by Ted Hughes
  • 4. 3 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Digging by Seamus Heaney Digging Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: 5 My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where he was digging. 10 The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft Against the inside knee was levered firmly. He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep To scatter new potatoes that we picked, Loving their cool hardness in our hands. 15 By God, the old man could handle a spade. Just like his old man. My grandfather cut more turf in a day Than any other man on Toner’s bog. Once I carried him milk in a bottle 20 Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up To drink it, then fell to right away Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods Over his shoulder, going down and down For the good turf. Digging. 25 The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge Through living roots awaken in my head. But I’ve no spade to follow men like them. Between my finger and my thumb 30 The squat pen rests. I’ll dig with it. Seamus Heaney
  • 5. 4 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Colonel Fazackerley Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast Bought an old castle complete with a ghost, But someone or other forgot to declare To Colonel Fazack that the spectre was there. 5 On the very first evening, while waiting to dine, The Colonel was taking a fine sherry wine, When the ghost, with a furious flash and a flare, Shot out of the chimney and shivered, 'Beware!' Colonel Fazackerley put down his glass 10 And said, 'My dear fellow, that's really first class! I just can't conceive how you do it at all. I imagine you're going to a Fancy Dress Ball?' At this, the dread ghost gave a withering cry. Said the Colonel (his monocle firm in his eye), 15 'Now just how you do it I wish I could think. Do sit down and tell me, and please have a drink.' The ghost in his phosphorous cloak gave a roar And floated about between ceiling and floor. He walked through a wall and returned through a pane 20 And backed up the chimney and came down again. Said the Colonel, 'With laughter I'm feeling quite weak!' (As trickles of merriment ran down his cheek). 'My house-warming party I hope you won't spurn. You must say you'll come and you'll give us a turn!' Colonel Fazackerley by Charles Causley continue
  • 6. 5 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology 25 Whereupon, the poor spectre - quite out of his wits - Proceeded to shake himself almost to bits. He rattled his chains and he clattered his bones And he filled the whole castle with mumbles and moans. But Colonel Fazackerley, just as before, 30 Was simply delighted and called out, 'Encore!' At which the ghost vanished, his efforts in vain, And never was seen at the castle again. 'Oh dear, what a pity!' said Colonel Fazack. 'I don't know his name, so I can't call him back.' 35 And then with a smile that was hard to define, Colonel Fazackerley went in to dine. Charles Causley Colonel Fazackerley by Charles Causley
  • 7. 6 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Everyone Sang Everyone suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white 5 Orchards and dark-green fields; on–on–and out of sight. Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone 10 Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done. Siegfried Sassoon Everyone Sang by Siegfried Sassoon
  • 8. 7 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology And Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like the dust, I'll rise. 5 Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, 10 With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? 15 Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines 20 Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like the air, I'll rise. 25 Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame 30 I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 35 Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 40 I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. MayaAngelou And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
  • 9. 8 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology How Do I Love Thee? How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. 5 I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use 10 In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. Elizabeth Barrett Browning How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
  • 10. 9 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Hope is the thing with feathers 'Hope' is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – 5 And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard – And sore must be the storm – That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm – I've heard it in the chillest land – 10 And on the strangest Sea – Yet – never – in Extremity, It asked a crumb – of Me. Emily Dickinson Hope is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
  • 11. 10 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology First Love I ne'er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet; Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. 5 My face turned pale as deadly pale My legs refused to walk away And when she looked, what could I ail – My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face, 10 And took my eyesight quite away; The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing Words from my eyes did start – 15 They spoke as chords do from the string And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice? Is love's bed always snow? She seemed to hear my silent voice 20 Not love's appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before; My heart has left its dwelling-place And can return no more. John Clare First Love by John Clare
  • 12. 11 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee;— 5 And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— 10 I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs in Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, 15 A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her high-born kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulcher 20 In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me:— Yes!— that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) 25 That the wind came out of the cloud, by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe continue
  • 13. 12 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— 30 And neither the angels in Heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:— For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams 35 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling,— my darling,— my life and my bride, 40 In the sepulcher there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea. EdgarAllan Poe Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
  • 14. 13 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could 5 To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there 10 Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, 15 I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, 20 And that has made all the difference. Robert Frost The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
  • 15. 14 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Variations on the word love This is a word we use to plug holes with. It's the right size for those warm blanks in speech, for those red heart- shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing 5 like real hearts. Add lace and you can sell it. We insert it also in the one empty space on the printed form that comes with no instructions. There are whole 10 magazines with not much in them but the word love, you can rub it all over your body and you can cook with it too. How do we know it isn't what goes on at the cool 15 debaucheries of slugs under damp pieces of cardboard? As for the weed- seedlings nosing their tough snouts up among the lettuces, they shout it. Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising 20 their glittering knives in salute. Variations on the word love by Margaret Atwood Then there's the two of us. This word is far too short for us, it has only four letters, too sparse 25 to fill those deep bare vacuums between the stars that press on us with their deafness. It's not love we don't wish to fall into, but that fear. 30 This word is not enough but it will have to do. It's a single vowel in this metallic silence, a mouth that says O again and again in wonder 35 and pain, a breath, a finger grip on a cliffside. You can hold on or let go. MargaretAtwood
  • 16. 15 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology City lilacs In crack-haunted alleys, overhangs, plots of sour earth that pass for gardens, in the space between wall and wheelie bin, where men with mobiles make urgent conversation, 5 where bare-legged girls shiver in April winds, where a new mother stands on her doorstep and blinks at the brightness of morning, so suddenly born — in all these places the city lilacs are pushing their cones of blossom into the spring 10 to be taken by the warm wind. Lilac, like love, makes no distinction. It will open for anyone. Even before love knows that it is love lilac knows it must blossom. 15 In crack-haunted alleys, in overhangs, in somebody’s front garden abandoned to crisp packets and cans, on landscaped motorway roundabouts, in the depth of parks 20 where men and women are lost in transactions of flesh and cash, where mobiles ring and the deal is done — here the city lilacs release their sweet, wild perfume then bow down, heavy with rain. Helen Dunmore City lilacs by Helen Dunmore
  • 17. 16 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology Last Lesson of the Afternoon When will the bell ring, and end this weariness? How long have they tugged the leash, and strained apart, My pack of unruly hounds! I cannot start Them again on a quarry of knowledge they hate to hunt, 5 I can haul them and urge them no more. No longer now can I endure the brunt Of the books that lie out on the desks; a full threescore Of several insults of blotted pages, and scrawl Of slovenly work that they have offered me. 10 I am sick, and what on earth is the good of it all? What good to them or me, I cannot see! So, shall I take My last dear fuel of life to heap on my soul And kindle my will to a flame that shall consume 15 Their dross of indifference; and take the toll Of their insults in punishment? — I will not!— I will not waste my soul and my strength for this. What do I care for all that they do amiss! What is the point of this teaching of mine, and of this 20 Learning of theirs? It all goes down the same abyss. What does it matter to me, if they can write A description of a dog, or if they can't? What is the point? To us both, it is all my aunt! And yet I’m supposed to care, with all my might. 25 I do not, and will not; they won’t and they don’t; and that’s all! I shall keep my strength for myself; they can keep theirs as well. Why should we beat our heads against the wall Of each other? I shall sit and wait for the bell. DH Lawrence Last Lesson of the Afternoon by DH Lawrence
  • 18. 17 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology At Castle Boterel As I drive to the junction of lane and highway, And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette, I look behind at the fading byway, And see on its slope, now glistening wet, 5 Distinctly yet Myself and a girlish form benighted In dry March weather. We climb the road Beside a chaise. We had just alighted To ease the sturdy pony’s load 10 When he sighed and slowed. What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of Matters not much, nor to what it led, — Something that life will not be balked of Without rude reason till hope is dead, 15 And feeling fled. At Castle Boterel by Thomas Hardy It filled but a minute. But was there ever A time of such quality, since or before, In that hill’s story? To one mind never, Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore, 20 By thousands more. Primaeval rocks form the road’s steep border, And much have they faced there, first and last, Of the transitory in Earth’s long order; But what they record in colour and cast 25 Is - that we two passed. And to me, though Time’s unflinching rigour, In mindless rote, has ruled from sight The substance now, one phantom figure Remains on the slope, as when that night 30 Saw us alight. I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking, I look back at it amid the rain For the very last time; for my sand is sinking, And I shall traverse old love’s domain 35 Never again. Thomas Hardy
  • 19. 18 U�een Poem Preparation �nthology In Salutation to the Eternal Peace Men say the world is full of fear and hate, And all life’s ripening harvest-fields await The restless sickle of relentless fate. But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born, 5 When from the climbing terraces of corn I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn. What care I for the world’s desire and pride, Who know the silver wings that gleam and glide, The homing pigeons of Thine eventide? 10 What care I for the world’s loud weariness, Who dream in twilight granaries Thou dost bless With delicate sheaves of mellow silences? Say, shall I heed dull presages of doom, Or dread the rumoured loneliness and gloom, 15 The mute and mythic terror of the tomb? For my glad heart is drunk and drenched with Thee, O inmost wine of living ecstasy; O intimate essence of eternity! Sarojini Naidu In Salutation to the Eternal Peace by Sarojini Naidu
  • 20. Published by Pearson Education Limited, Edinburgh Gate, Harlow, Essex, CM20 2JE. www.pearsonschoolsandfecolleges.co.uk For use with the Edexcel English Literature specification. Copies of official specifications for all Edexcel qualifications may be found on the Edexcel website: www.edexcel.com © Pearson Education Limited 2013 Audio recorded by Pearson Education Limited First published 2013 Acknowledgements Cover images: Alamy Images: Colin Crisford; Getty Images: Jason Hosking; iStockphoto: Simon Alvinge, Huseyin Tuncer. ‘The Thought Fox’ by Ted Hughes © Ted Hughes was taken from The Hawk in the Rain, published by Faber Faber, 2003; ‘Digging’ by Seamus Heaney © Seamus Heaney, was taken from New Selected Poems 1966-1987, published by Faber Faber, 2002; ‘Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast’ by Charles Causley © Charles Causley, from the book: I HadA Little Cat published by Macmillan Children’s Books, 2009. Used by permission of David Higham Associates; ‘Everyone Sang’ by Siegfried Sassoon © Siegfried Sassoon from Collected Poems 1908-1956 published by Faber Faber 1961, used by kind permission of the Estate of George Sassoon; ‘Still I Rise’, copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou, from And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House Inc., USA and Little Brown Book Group; ‘The Road Not Taken’ by Robert Frost, © Robert Frost, taken from Collected Poems published by Random House and Henry Holt and Company; ‘Variations on the Word Love’ by Margaret Atwood, used by permission of the Author. Available in Selected Poems, 1966-1984, published by McClelland and Stewart, Canada, © Margaret Atwood 1990; ‘City Lilacs’ by Helen Dunmore, taken from Glad OfTheseTimes, used by permission of Bloodaxe books © Helen Dunmore, 2007; ‘In Salutation to the Eternal Peace’ by Sarojini Naidu, taken from: Sarojini Naidu’s Poetry: Melody Of Indianness, published by Sarup Sons, © Sarojini Naidu, 2003. Every effort has been made to contact copyright holders of material reproduced in this book. Any omissions will be rectified in subsequent printings if notice is given to the publishers.