On Finding a Small Fly Crushed in a Book
Charles Tennyson Turner
1808 to 1879
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. 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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Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine
Just as we lift ourselves to soar away
But thou hast left thine own fair monument,
Has crush'd thee here between these pages pent;
Where half as lovely as these wings of thine!
Upon the summer-airs. But, unlike thee,
The book will close upon us, it may be,
Some hand, that never meant to do thee hurt,
The peril is beside us day by day;
Now thou art gone. Our doom is ever near:
The closing book may stop our vital breath,
Thy wings gleam out and tell me what thou wert:
Oh! that the memories, which survive us here,
Yet leave no lustre on our page of death.