A Wasted Land
Arthur O'Shaughnessy
1844 to 1881
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. 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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Like an asp,—yea, in each part
For the blushing blood of the vine,
Lying in wait for the heart.
Or whenever the night is nigh,
And her lips left many a sting;
Is a canker or a pain:
Its beauty shall no more rise:
She hath drawn the wine to her lip.
—She came, and with her hand,
When the peach began to pout,
Her feet left many a stain;
And the world hath space for a sigh.
And the spoilers were about
Alas, for a sound is heard
And the fruit of everything
Of a bitterly broken song;
And a memory doth crouch
It was in the time of fruit;
For a mere wanton sip:
Grievous is every word;
And it comes when the winds are low,
With her mouth, yea, and her eyes
And the viper glode at the root:
And the burden is weary and long
She will never come again,
Lo, where the vine-branch lies;
Like the waves between ebb and flow;
She hath ravaged all the land;
Lo, where the drained grapes drip.
And the leaves were a threadbare suit
Where she hath left her touch,—
And the purple grape to shine,