One of my favorite things to do when I taught a poetry unit was to select a poem I had not ‘prepared” to teach and then ask students to give me their impressions. A selection like this always brought interesting discussions because there was no prescribed agenda; we read for meaning together. One of the “go to” poets in such classroom experiments was the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
My students were already familiar with his Paul Revere’s Ride. They were also familiar with some of his acquaintances including the authors Nathaniel Hawthorne and Charles Dickens. His verse was always accessible to students in different grade levels; the narrative in his poetry always captured their imaginations.
As we approach this last weekend in the coldest February on record, readers can get a glimpse of how Longfellow might have approached his birthday on the 27th with Afternoon in February:.
The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.
The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o’er the plain;While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.
Used Books in Class 