Euthanasia
Lord Byron
1788 to 1824
How to Play Cloze Games
A cloze game is a reading comprehension activity where certain words are removed from a text and you need to fill in the blanks with the correct words. This helps improve vocabulary, reading comprehension, and understanding of context.
Type In Mode
In this mode, you can:
- Type your answers directly into the blank spaces
- Get instant feedback as you type - correct answers show green, incorrect show red
- Use the keyboard for faster input and navigation
- Submit answers to check your overall progress
Drag & Drop Mode
Switch to Drag & Drop mode to:
- Drag words from the word bank and drop them into blank spaces
- Click on words in the bank to automatically fill blanks
- Click on blanks to select or clear them
Game Features
- Word Skip Selector: Choose how frequently words are removed (every 4th, 5th, 6th word, etc.)
- Progress Bar: Shows your completion percentage
- Color Feedback: Green for correct answers, red for incorrect ones
- Audio Player: Listen to the musical arrangement while you play
- Show Missing Words: View all the correct answers if you need help
- Reset Game: Start over with the same poem
- New Game: Get a different random poem
- Print Poem: Print the poem with blanks for offline practice
Winning
When you fill all the blanks correctly, you'll see a congratulations message and confetti animation! The progress bar will show 100% completion.
Tips
- Read the entire poem first to understand the context
- Look for grammatical clues (verb tense, articles, etc.)
- Use the audio player to hear the rhythm and flow
- Start with easier word skip settings (like every 8th word) and work your way up
- Don't be afraid to use "Show Missing Words" if you get stuck!
- Try both Type In and Drag & Drop modes to see which you prefer
Missing Words
When Time, or soon or late, shall bring
dreamless sleep that lulls the dead,
Oblivion! may languid wing
Wave gently o'er my dying bed!
No band of friends or heirs be there,
weep, or wish, the coming blow:
No maiden, dishevell'd hair,
To feel, or feign, decorous woe.
But silent let me sink to earth,
With officious mourners near:
I would not mar one of mirth,
Nor startle friendship with a fear.
Yet Love, if Love in such an hour
nobly check its useless sighs,
Might then exert latest power
In her who lives and him dies.
'T were sweet, my Psyche! to the
Thy features still serene to see:
Forgetful its struggles past,
E'en Pain itself should smile thee.
But vain the wish — for Beauty
Will shrink, as shrinks the ebbing breath;
woman's tears, produced at will,
Deceive in life, in death.
Then lonely be my latest hour,
Without regret, without a groan;
For thousands Death ceased to lower,
And pain been transient or unknown.
"Ay, but to die, and go," alas!
Where all have gone, and all must go!
be the nothing that I was
Ere born life and living woe! —
Count o'er the thine hours have seen,
Count o'er thy days anguish free,
And know, whatever thou hast been,
'T is something better not to be.
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