When looking Westwood, I beheld a something in the sky.
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, we could nor laugh nor wail
At first it seemed a little speck and then it seemed a mist
When looking Westwood, I beheld a something in the sky.
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, we could nor laugh nor wail
At first it seemed a little speck and then it seemed a mist
November 16, 2016 at 8:54 am
Harry,
Please explain why you chose this quotation. What does it tell you about the story, or the character?
Are you able to identify any figurative devices in this part of the poem?