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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The roses, red and white,
Came peeping in at morn;
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
The fir trees dark and high;
Where I was used to swing,
The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
I remember, I remember,
Nor brought too long a day,
And where my brother set
The house where I was born,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To know I'm farther off from heav'n
I remember, I remember,
I used to think their slender tops
The little window where the sun
That is so heavy now,
Those flowers made of light!
The laburnum on his birthday,β
The tree is living yet!
But now 'tis little joy
Than when I was a boy.
Were close against the sky:
I remember, I remember,
The fever on my brow!
He never came a wink too soon,
Had borne my breath away!
I remember, I remember,
It was a childish ignorance,
But now, I often wish the night
And summer pools could hardly cool
The lilacs where the robin built,
π Congratulations! π
You've successfully reconstructed the poem! Your understanding of poetry and attention to detail is impressive.
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away!
I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The vi'lets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday,— The tree is living yet!
I remember, I remember, Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow!
I remember, I remember, The fir trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from heav'n Than when I was a boy.