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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Thou whom chance may hither lead,
Ambition is a meteor gleam;
Pleasures, insects on the wing
Keep His goodness still in view,
Sprung from night, in darkness lost;
Be thou clad in russet weed,
Be thou deck'd in silken stole,
Fear not clouds will always lower.
Reverence with lowly heart
Stranger, go! Heaven be thy guide!
Life is but a day at most,
Fame, a restless idle dream:
Him whose wondrous work thou art;
Welcome what thou canst not shun.
Those that would the bloom devour,
Make their consequence thy care:
Hope not sunshine every hour,
Thy trust--and thy example, too.
Day, how few must see the night;
Those that sip the dew alone,
Guard wherever thou canst guard;
Crush the locusts--save the flower.
And dishonour not thy kind.
Quod the Beadsman on Nithside.
Follies past, give thou to air,
Happiness is but a name,
Round Peace, the tenderest flower of Spring;
Grave these maxims on thy soul.
Keep the name of man in mind,
Make content and ease thy aim.
But, thy utmost duly done,
Day, how rapid in its flight--
For the future be prepar'd,
Make the butterflies thy own;
🎉 Congratulations! 🎉
You've successfully reconstructed the poem! Your understanding of poetry and attention to detail is impressive.
Thou whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deck'd in silken stole, Grave these maxims on thy soul. Life is but a day at most, Sprung from night, in darkness lost; Day, how rapid in its flight-- Day, how few must see the night; Hope not sunshine every hour, Fear not clouds will always lower. Happiness is but a name, Make content and ease thy aim.
Ambition is a meteor gleam; Fame, a restless idle dream: Pleasures, insects on the wing Round Peace, the tenderest flower of Spring; Those that sip the dew alone, Make the butterflies thy own; Those that would the bloom devour, Crush the locusts--save the flower. For the future be prepar'd, Guard wherever thou canst guard; But, thy utmost duly done, Welcome what thou canst not shun. Follies past, give thou to air, Make their consequence thy care: Keep the name of man in mind, And dishonour not thy kind. Reverence with lowly heart Him whose wondrous work thou art; Keep His goodness still in view, Thy trust--and thy example, too.
Stranger, go! Heaven be thy guide! Quod the Beadsman on Nithside.