27 January 1832 to 14 January 1898 (~66)
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 (when available)
- 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
Winning
When you fill all the blanks correctly and submit your answers, you'll see a congratulations message! 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 (when available)
- 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
The night creeps onward, sad and slow:
In these embers' dying glow
The forms of Fancy come and go.
An island-farm—broad seas of corn
Stirred by the wandering of morn—
The happy spot where I was born.
picture fadeth in its place:
Amid the glow I to trace
The shifting semblance of a face.
'Tis a little childish form—
Red lips for kisses pouted warm—
And elf-locks tangled in the storm.
'Tis now a and gentle maid,
At her own beauty half afraid,
Shrinking, and willing to be stayed.
Oh, Time was young, Life was warm,
When first I saw that fairy-form,
dark hair tossing in the storm.
And fast and these pulses played,
When last I met that gentle maid—
When last her hand in mine was laid.
Those of jet are turned to gray,
And she is and far away
That might have been mine own to-day—
That might have been mine own, my dear,
Through and many a happy year—
That might have sat me here.
Ay, changeless through the changing scene,
The whisper rings between,
The dark refrain of "might have been".
The race is o'er I might have run:
The are past I might have done;
And sere the I might have won.
Sunk is the last faint blaze:
The vision of departed days
Is vanished even I gaze.
The pictures, with their ruddy light,
Are to dust and ashes white,
And I am left with night.