ENGL 102. Figurative Language: Simile and Metaphor. Figurative Language:.
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Simile and Metaphor
where roses and lilies grow;
The various elements of figurative language are called figures of speech. The most commonly used figures of speech are simile, metaphor, and personification.
An expressed comparison between two unlike objects, usually using like or as. ‘Tom is as ugly as Bill’ is a simple comparison but ‘Tom is as ugly as sin’ is a simile.
Whose nest is in a water’d shoot
Christina Rossetti, “A Birthday”
Is shining in the sky.
“She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways”
O my luve's like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June.
O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve,
And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
A touch of cold in the Autumn night –I walked abroadAnd saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedgeLike a red-faced farmer.I did not stop to speak, but nodded,And round about were the wistful stars With white faces like town children.
A figure of speech in which two unlike objects are compared by identification or by the substitution of one for the other.
The Night is a Big Black Cat
The Night is a Big Black cat
The Moon is her topaz eye,
Stars are the mice she hunts at night.
In the field of the sultry sky.
G. Orr Clark
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the
Macbeth, Act Five, Scene Five
The biggest flakes I’ve ever seen
Are blowing white chrysanthemums,
Whirling in a wild ballet.
Pine trees sway from tangles roots,
The wild wind shrills its horns and flutes.
Nobody walks the streets today,
We’re inside, watching the outside play.
Above the Dock
Above the quiet dock in mid night,
Tangled in the tall mast’s corded height,
Hangs the moon. What seemed so far away
Is but a child’s balloon, forgotten after play.
My husband gives me an Afor last night's supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed.My son says I am average, an average mother, but ifI put my mind to itI could improve.My daughter believes in Pass/Fail and tells meI pass. Wait 'til they learnI'm dropping out. 1978
The soft gray hands of sleep
Toiled all night long
To spin a beautiful garment
The little task was done.
The garb so deftly spun
Was only a heap
Of raveled thread –
A vague remembrance
In my head.
In this kingdom
the sun never sets;
under the pale oval
of the sky
there seems no way in
and though there is a sea here
there is no tide.
For the egg itself
is a moon
in the galaxy of the barn,
safe but for the spoon’s
the first delicate crack
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.