Unit 10 Figures of Speech

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Introduction to Literature

Unit 10 Figures of Speech

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Simile

A violet by a mossy stone Half-hidden from the eye! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. William Wordsworth: The lost Love

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. Robert Burns

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Simile

Higher still and higher, From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire… Shelley: To Skylark Beauty is as summer fruits, which are easy to corrupt and cannot last… Bacon What sculpture is to a block of marble, education is to the soul.

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Metaphor

The Hound Life the hound Equivocal Comes at a bound Either to rend me Or to befriend me. I cannot tell The hound’s intent Till he has sprung At my bare hand With teeth or tongue. Meanwhile I stand And wait the event. Robert Francis

猎犬 命运的猎狗 形迹可疑 它一跃而来 或将我撕碎， 或与我为友。 我猜不透 这猎犬的意图 直到它龇牙露舌 朝我扑来 我却是空拳赤手。 我只好硬着头皮 把结局等候

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Metaphor

早梅 White butterflies in the air; White daisies prank the ground; The cherry and hoary pear Scatter their snow around. R. Bridges: Spring Cometh All in White (the falling petals of the cherry and pear→snow) 张谓 一树寒梅白玉条， 一树寒梅白玉条， 迥临村路傍溪桥。 迥临村路傍溪桥。 不知近水花先发， 不知近水花先发， 疑是经冬雪未销。 疑是经冬雪未销。

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Personification

The Wind The wind stood up and gave a shout. He whistled on his fingers and Kicked the withered leaves about And thumped the branches with his hand And said he’d kill and kill and kill, And so he will and so he will. James Stephens Rough wind, that moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm, whose tears are vain Bare woods, whose branches strain Deep caves and deary main, Wail, for the world’s wrong. Shelley: A Dirge

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Apostrophe（呼告）

杯，汝来前！老子今朝，点检形 西江月 骸。 甚长年抱渴，咽如焦釜；于今喜 醉里且贪欢笑，要愁那得 睡，气似奔雷。 功夫。近来始觉古人书， 汝说刘伶。古今达者，醉后何妨 死便埋。 信着全无是处。 浑如此，叹汝于知己，真少恩哉！ 辛弃疾：沁园春

昨夜松边醉到，问松“我 醉何如”。只疑松动要 来扶，以手推松曰 “去！” 辛弃疾

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Apostrophe（呼告）

O Captain! My captain! rise up and hear the bell. Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills. Walt Whitman England! awake! awake! awake! Jerusalem thy sister call! William Blake

O blithe new-comer! I have heard I hear thee and rejoice O cuckoo! shall I call thee bird Or but a wandering voice? Wordsworth: To the Cuckoo O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts an enchanter fleeing. Sh

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