Eighth Grade Poetry Memory
Sept/Oct: Must be recited to the English teacher by Friday, Oct. 29. No more than three one-word
“helps” will be given. Extra points will be given for recitations with excellent vocal expression and for
poems recited before the end of September.
(Untitled) by Emily Dickinson
We grow accustomed to the Dark—
When Light is put away—
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye—
A Moment—We uncertain step
For newness of the night—
Then—fit our Vision to the Dark—
And meet the Road—erect—
And so of larger—Darknesses—
Those Evenings of the Brain—
When not a Moon disclose a sign—
Or Star—come out—within—
The Bravest—grope a little—
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead—
But as they learn to see—
Either the Darkness alters—
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight—
And Life steps almost straight.
Teacher’s Signature___________________________________ Date______________
Nov/Dec: Must be recited to the English teacher by Friday, Dec. 17. No more than three one-word
“helps” will be given. Extra points will be given for recitations with excellent vocal expression.
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Teacher’s Signature___________________________________ Date______________
Jan/Feb: Must be recited to the English teacher by Friday, Feb. 26. No more than three one-word
“helps” will be given. Extra points will be given for recitations with excellent vocal expression. Extra
points if said in January.
Death be not Proud
John Donne
DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Mar/Apr: Must be recited to the English teacher by Friday, May 14. No more than three one-word
“helps” will be given. Extra points will be given for recitations with excellent vocal expression. Extra
points if said in March or April.
O Captain! My Captain! By Walt Whitman
O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.
But O heart! Heart! Heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my captain lies
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! My Captain! Rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
Here Captain! Dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:
Exult O shores , and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.