She's Up and Gone
Thomas Hood
1799 to 1845
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.
Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
And call her on the hill:
But never one like mine;
But now 'tis turn'd to tears;—
Aye, call her on the barren moor,
Before her feet will turn again
My shadow falls upon my grave,
And I may even walk a waste
Her meat was served on plates of gold,
My child is flown on wilder wings
She's up and gone, the graceless girl,
My blood before was thin and cold
And plover's answer shrill;
Than they have ever spread,
So near the brink I stand,
That widen'd when she fled.
And sup the common rill,
'Tis nothing but the heron's cry,
And led me by the hand!
To meet her father's will!
But now she'll share the robin's food,
Full many a thankless child has been,
She might have stay'd a little yet,
Her drink was rosy wine;
And robb'd my failing years!