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Poem analysis :S (1 Viewer)

cassann08

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Mar 28, 2010
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2011
Could anyone help me?
I need to critically analyse the poem "Homecoming" by Bruce Dawe and "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by William Wordsworth for my Extension English Essay. Every time I try looking on Google it just comes up with other essays that you need to pay to look at. Usually I'm OK with analysis but these two are doing my head in :( I'll post the poems here so anybody please feel free to comment or PM me. Thanks heaps :)

Homecoming
All day, day after day, they're bringing them home,
they're picking them up, those they can find, and bringing them home,
they're bringing them in, piled on the hulls of grants, in trucks, in convoys,
they're zipping them up in green plastic bags,
they're tagging them now in Saigon, in the mortuary coolness-
they're giving them names, they're rolling them out of
the deep-freeze lockers-on the tarmac at Tan Son Nhut
they are bringing them home
- curly-heads, kinky-hairs, crew-cuts, balding non-coms
- they're high, now, high and higher, over the land, the steaming chow mein
their shadows are tracing the blue curve of the Pacific
with sorrowful quick fingers, heading south, heading east,
home, home, home- and the coasts swing upward,the old
ridiculous curvatures
of earth, the knuckled hills, the mangrove-swamps, the desert emptiness...
in their sterile housing they tilt towards these like skiers
- taxiing in, on the long runways, the howl of their homecoming rises
surrounding them like their last moments (the mash, the splendour)
then fading at length as they move
on to small towns where dogs in the frozen sunset
raise muzzles in mute salute,
and on to cities in whose wide web of suburbs
telegrams tremble like leaves from a wintering tree
and the spider grief swings in his bitter geometry
- they're bringing them home, now, too late, too early.


I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
The stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company;
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth to me the show had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
 

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