AnswersSS-English Language Arts 7Rhyme, Rhythm, and Visualizing in a Yeats Poem

Rhyme, Rhythm, and Visualizing in a Yeats Poem Answers

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1
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Choose the best visualization of the fishing pole described as “a hazel wand.”

A
The pole looks like an ordinary pole.
B
The pole looks like it has mythical power.
C
The pole looks like it catches only trout.
D
The pole looks like a trap for white moths.
2
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realistic, because she is femalemythical, because she is livingrealistic, because she is beautiful✔ mythical, because she is shining

A
realistic, because she is female
B
mythical, because she is living
C
realistic, because she is beautiful
D
mythical, because she is shining
3

To “rustle” means to make a series of quick, light sounds (such as when papers rub against each other). This word helps you imagine that

A
a loud noise is heard from a distance.
B
a girl is speaking to the poem’s writer.
C
something has just fallen to the ground.
D
something small is moving in the room.
4

Which best describes an image of Aengus based on the first two lines of this stanza?

A
Aengus looks unhappy, because he has not found the girl.
B
Aengus looks tired and can no longer climb up and down.
C
Aengus looks old from walking everywhere.
D
Aengus looks worn out from climbing up and down mountains.
5

Write a few sentences describing what you visualized, heard, and smelled when you imagined the poem.

Answer:

I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun. —“The Song of Wandering Aengus,” William Butler Yeats

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