Suicide
William Ernest Henley
1849 to 1903
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. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
Made the world so black a riddle
See his harsh, unrazored features,
He has told me all his troubles.
Ghastly brown against the pillow,
But sometimes he talks a little.
And, although his knife was edgeless,
And his children in the workhouse
And his throat—so strangely bandaged!
He was sinking fast towards one,
A debauch of smuggled whisky,
In the night I hear him sobbing.
Lack of work and lack of victuals,
White and wild his eyeballs glisten;
Stupid now with shame and sorrow,
Yet so slavish, makes you shudder!
Staring corpselike at the ceiling,
When they came, and found, and saved him.
And his smile, occult and tragic,
In his broad face, tanned and bloodless,
That he plunged for a solution;