Class Recap–September 18, 2014

Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good.  Be devoted to one another in brotherly love . . . Romans 12:9-10

Today we discussed the how society and worldview affects the literature that is produced in each time period. In the Colonial Era, you find a lot of spiritual influence in the literature and that decreases as we move into the Enlightenment, and it further decreases as time progresses.

We also talked about how there was a lot of religious hypocrisy during this time. The students will encounter this as the begin to study The Scarlet Letter.

We then took some notes:

Tips For Writing

When you are writing the title of a short story or a poem, you place quotation marks around the title.

Example:

“To My Dear and Loving Husband”

“Psalm 100”

“The Open Boat”

When you are writing the title of a book, you don’t use quotation marks.

If you are handwriting the title with good old pen and paper, you underline the title. Ex. The Scarlet Letter

If you are typing the title of a book on a computer you use italics. Ex. The Scarlet Letter

Anne Bradstreet

The first American poet to have her work published (a woman. yay.)

One of the Puritan settlers who established the Massachusetts Bay colony with John Winthrop in 1630.

She got married at 16.

She was highly educated in history, languages, theology, medicine, and politics. She homeschooled her 8 children.

Her husband (a governor) and her father helped establish Harvard University, and two of her sons graduated from there.

She had over 800 books.

We then read and analyzed three of Anne’s poems:

By Night When Others Soundly Slept

By night when others soundly slept

And hath at once both ease and Rest,

My waking eyes were open kept

And so to lie I found it best.

.

I sought him whom my Soul did Love,

With tears I sought him earnestly.

He bow’d his ear down from Above.

In vain I did not seek or cry.

.

My hungry Soul he fill’d with Good;

He in his Bottle put my tears,

My smarting wounds washt in his blood,

And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.

.

What to my Saviour shall I give

Who freely hath done this for me?

I’ll serve him here whilst I shall live

And Loue him to Eternity

To My Dear and Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were loved by wife, then thee;

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me ye women if you can.

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the East doth hold.

My love is such that rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.

Thy love is such I can no way repay;

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.

Then while we live, in love let’s so persever,

That when we live no more we may live ever.

Verses Upon the Burning Of Our House July 18, 1666

Anne Bradstreet

In silent night when rest I took,

For sorrow near I did not look,

I waken’d was with thund’ring noise

And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.

That fearful sound of ‘fire’ and ‘fire,’

Let no man know is my Desire.

I starting up, the light did spy,

And to my God my heart did cry

To straighten me in my Distress

And not to leave me succourless.

Then coming out, behold a space

The flame consume my dwelling place.

And when I could no longer look,

I blest his grace that gave and took,

That laid my goods now in the dust.

Yea, so it was, and so ’twas just.

It was his own; it was not mine.

Far be it that I should repine,

He might of all justly bereft

But yet sufficient for us left.

When by the Ruins oft I past

My sorrowing eyes aside did cast

And here and there the places spy

Where oft I sate and long did lie.

Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest,

There lay that store I counted best,

My pleasant things in ashes lie

And them behold no more shall I.

Under the roof no guest shall sit,

Nor at thy Table eat a bit.

No pleasant talk shall ‘ere be told

Nor things recounted done of old.

No Candle ‘ere shall shine in Thee,

Nor bridegroom’s voice ere heard shall bee.

In silence ever shalt thou lie.

Adieu, Adieu, All’s Vanity.

Then straight I ‘gin my heart to chide:

And did thy wealth on earth abide,

Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,

The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?

Raise up thy thoughts above the sky

That dunghill mists away may fly.

Thou hast a house on high erect

Fram’d by that mighty Architect,

With glory richly furnished

Stands permanent, though this be fled.

It’s purchased and paid for too

By him who hath enough to do.

A price so vast as is unknown,

Yet by his gift is made thine own.

There’s wealth enough; I need no more.

Farewell, my pelf; farewell, my store.

The world no longer let me love;

My hope and Treasure lies above.

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