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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It sang for the hope of Eri
For night or day,
It laughed and it grew not weary,
Cry through the Heart Lake's rushes,
With the kindliest folk of Eri
All under the druid quicken,
For joy that died —
It sighed and was sweeter yet,
Where, scarlet-clad,
And under the oaks, unstricken,
It's O to be there," I cried,
And falter and fade away,
There never was any piping
To dance with no thought of grieving
In the golden throat of a bird,
Drove my dream away.
Like odours of thyme one crushes
And her heavy fret.
Sweet, sweet is the twilight dancing,
It came like the wind, and lightly
That in dreams I heard
So merry and none so sad,
For it sang of a far green island
And when silence took the piping,
In the heat of the day.
So sweet and tender and gay,
There never was any piping
There never was any music
But the dawn through the rushes glancing
Till the dew's away.
Feeds Saav, the doe.
Wild dancers gather and go,
To dance, and be never weary
Not sweet is the homespun day.
It blew away —
More fine and clear than the piping
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You've successfully reconstructed the poem! Your understanding of poetry and attention to detail is impressive.
There never was any music In the golden throat of a bird, More fine and clear than the piping That in dreams I heard Cry through the Heart Lake's rushes, And falter and fade away, Like odours of thyme one crushes In the heat of the day.
There never was any piping So sweet and tender and gay, It came like the wind, and lightly It blew away — It laughed and it grew not weary, It sighed and was sweeter yet, It sang for the hope of Eri And her heavy fret.
There never was any piping So merry and none so sad, For it sang of a far green island Where, scarlet-clad, All under the druid quicken, Wild dancers gather and go, And under the oaks, unstricken, Feeds Saav, the doe.
And when silence took the piping, "It's O to be there," I cried, "To dance with no thought of grieving For joy that died — To dance, and be never weary For night or day, With the kindliest folk of Eri Till the dew's away. Sweet, sweet is the twilight dancing, Not sweet is the homespun day." But the dawn through the rushes glancing Drove my dream away.