Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. You can also use the up (↑) and down (↓) arrows to move a line one place at a time, or the top (⇑) and bottom (⇓) arrows to move a line directly to the top or bottom. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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And much I hope my movements here
Mistress, I dug upon your grave
My enemy? — prodding sly?
To equal among human kind
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
Her spirit from Death's gin.
Ah, are you digging on my grave,
Then, who is digging on my grave?
What good will planting flowers produce?
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
Say — since I have not guessed!
Then who is digging on my grave,
She thought you no more worth her hate,
To bury a bone, in case
— "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
And cares not where you lie.
A dog's fidelity!
When passing on my daily trot.
— "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
That I should not be true.
Your little dog , who still lives near,
Have not disturbed your rest?
What feeling do we ever find
— "No: yesterday he went to wed
Ah yes! You dig upon my grave…
— "O it is I, my mistress dear,
Why flashed it not to me
It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
My loved one? — planting rue?
I should be hungry near this spot
My nearest dearest kin?
It was your resting place.
No tendance of her mound can loose
But someone digs upon my grave?
That one true heart was left behind!
🎉 Congratulations! 🎉
You've successfully reconstructed the poem! Your understanding of poetry and attention to detail is impressive.
"Ah, are you digging on my grave, My loved one? — planting rue?" — "No: yesterday he went to wed One of the brightest wealth has bred. 'It cannot hurt her now,' he said, 'That I should not be true.'"
"Then who is digging on my grave, My nearest dearest kin?" — "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use! What good will planting flowers produce? No tendance of her mound can loose Her spirit from Death's gin.'"
"But someone digs upon my grave? My enemy? — prodding sly?" — "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate That shuts on all flesh soon or late, She thought you no more worth her hate, And cares not where you lie.
"Then, who is digging on my grave? Say — since I have not guessed!" — "O it is I, my mistress dear, Your little dog , who still lives near, And much I hope my movements here Have not disturbed your rest?"
"Ah yes! You dig upon my grave… Why flashed it not to me That one true heart was left behind! What feeling do we ever find To equal among human kind A dog's fidelity!"
"Mistress, I dug upon your grave To bury a bone, in case I should be hungry near this spot When passing on my daily trot. I am sorry, but I quite forgot It was your resting place."