The Sunrise
There was darkness, and now there is light. As if it was proclaimed the sun broke forth triumphantly, warmed the earth, spreading its gleaming tendrils to every corner of the world, and chased away the dreadful night. Like a symbol of joy itself the beams hound out the last of the shadows which used to haunt the land. The night itself is the very epitome of sorrow, the being of death and blackness, where as the sunrise is the bearer of hope, the emblem of new life and rebirth. Through the darkness which seems to prevail, the night whose blackness seems to never end, the sun manages to once again rise over the horizon and illuminate the planet with its glorious rays. My life, once bleak and dreary has experienced a sunrise, one which has filled my world with warmth and light and drove away the cloudy and obscure shadows.
The austere and unremitting night, which all are far too familiar with, cloaks the world with a bleak and unsettling gloom, the darkness rolls like thick fog, cloaking the once powerful sun and all is still. The night is by far the most solemn time of day, with its bleak darkness which chokes the life from the once vibrant day and covers it with its sorrow. As Shakespeare would likely agree in A Midsummer Night’s Dream when Pyramus exclaims “O grim-look’d night! Oh night with hue so black! O night, which art ever art when day is not,” the night is the gloom of the day, representing the death of the sun. When the sun is conquered the night becomes still. There is only silence, a depression over the land falls like a thick smoke that suffocates all life, there is only sadness and bleak solitude. On some nights there is the moon, but on other the clouds cover what little light may shine from the “sunny...
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...e and cast out my bad memories. I began to focus on the vibrant colors of my life, not the desolate darkness like before. I found hope and a reason to live, I also found strength. The sun rose in my life just when I thought it never would and that I would never recover. The night was banished from me as the sun banishes it from the earth. The night may had once plagued my life, but so has the sun bursted forth and warmed my cold existence, the sunrise is the best metaphor for my life.
Works Cited
Shakespeare, William. Midsummer Nights Dream. New York: Bantam, 1988. Print.
Shakespeare, William. The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. Ed. Richard Hosley. New Haven: Yale UP, 1954. Print.
Thornton, Jacqui. "Sunrise." Art Arena - Original Paintings, Creative Literature and Persian Culture. World Poems, 2000. Web. 12 Dec. 2011. .
As society continuously expands, building new structures, light pollution becomes increasingly problematic. Paul Bogard addresses this problem and argues against the increasing light pollution in his writing, “Let There Be Dark.” Through his use of the ethos and pathos, Bogard attempts to persuade his audience of the beauty of natural darkness.
In the stanzas of Elizabeth Bishop’s poem, the speaker very honestly observes the scenes from outside her apartment. From her point of view, she sees a both a bird and a dog in the process of sleeping. The speaker views these animals as having simple lives unbothered by endless questions or worries. Instead, the two live peaceful, uninterrupted existences, rising every morning knowing that “everything is answered” (ln. 22). However, the speaker lives in contrast to this statement instead anxiously awaiting the next day where uncertainty is a likely possibility. Unlike the dog and the bird, the speaker cannot sit passively by as the world continues in its cycle and she carries a variety of emotions, such as a sense of shame. It is evident here that the speaker has gone through or is currently undergoing some sort of struggle. When she states that “Yesterday brought to today so lightly!” she does so in longing for the world to recognize her for her issues by viewing the earth’s graces as so light of actions, and in doing so, she fails to recognize that she can no longer comprehend the beauty of nature that it offers her. In viewing the light hitting the trees as “gray light streaking each bare branch” (ln. 11), she only sees the monotony of the morning and condescends it to merely “another tree” (ln. 13.) To her, the morning is something
Shakespeare, William. Othello. Ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2009. Print
Daisy’s actions and words contrast greatly with her husband, Tom, and his grave nature. Her impression on the reader is frivolous with her “charming little laugh'; (13), and her light manner. In addition, Daisy’s tendency to murmur, rumored to make people lean closer to her, also reflects on her coquettish personality. Nick’s ability to read Daisy so well from her facial expressions and body language attests that her mannerisms are very illustrative; “Daisy took her face in her hands…I saw that turbulent emotions possessed her, so I asked what I thought would be some sedative questions. She also welcomes Nick’s charming but cheesy flattery, when talking about Chicago and she treats him the same way in return by referring to him as a rose and also by saying “I am p-paralyzed with happiness'; (13).
Shakespeare, William. Othello. Ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2009. Print
Shakespeare, William. Romeo and Juliet. Ed. Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine. N.p.: n.p., n.d. Print.
Shakespeare, William. Romeo and Juliet. Language of Literature. Ed. Arthur N. Applebee. Evanston: McDougal Littell, 2002. Print.
Hunt, Jonathan. "In Darkness." The Horn Book Magazine Mar.-Apr. 2012: 111+. Academic OneFile. Web. 29 Apr. 2014
Humans understood that something unusual was happening. No one thought that nightfall had truly come. But the brute creation, the various farm animals, and their wild cousins, behaved as though the day, but so shortly before begun, had come already to its premature close. Cows returned for their evening milking, chickens sought their roosts, and dogs, sensitive to the concern and fright that their masters so obviously felt, cowered at the doorsteps of houses, seeking whatever comfort their terrified owners could give them. The birds of the air vacated the skies and sought their nests; frogs began their evening serenade, as all nature welcomed the end of a day that only to human minds had not really
Daisy Miller may be uneducated, as Winterbourne and his aunt describe her, but she is witty." One illustration of her humor takes place at Mrs. Walker"s party when Winterbourne is criticizing her for her relations with Giovanelli." He says they don"t "understand that sort of thing here"not in young married women."Daisy cries, "I thought they understood nothing else!" and goes on to say, "It seems to me more proper in young unmarried than in old married ones."Daisy typically speaks and behaves frankly, almost in a child-like fashion, but this shows, as the narrator describes it, a "startling worldly knowledge" (1587)." Daisy is somewhat rustic but smart." She has a "natural elegance" and a mixture of" "innocence and crudity," and yet, as seen in her response, her character proves to go beyond the boundaries of this character type of the natural beauty (1564 and 1574).
Daisy Miller starts out in a hotel in Vevey, Switzerland when a gentleman named Winterbourne meets Daisy, a young, beautiful American girl traveling through Europe. Daisy, her younger brother Randolph and her mother, Mrs. Miller, are traveling all over Europe while her father is home in Schenectady, New York. While Daisy is in Europe, she does not accept European ideas to be her own. Winterbourne, to the contrary, has been living in Europe since he left America when he was younger. Winterbourne takes a strong liking to Daisy even though his aunt, Mrs. Costello, does not approve of him even speaking to Daisy. Winterbourne claims that Daisy is an innocent person, but his aunt believes she is too common and not refined enough for him. Winterbourne and Daisy spend much time together, and even had a date at a close by castle named Chillon. Winterbourne then returns to Geneva where he is studying, but agrees to visit Daisy again that winter in Rome.
...the end, you are the only one who can truly put you in the dark. Moreover, you, yourself, are the one who can take you out of your darkness.
This matches the book dramatically with the end of the novel being a new sunrise, symbolizing a new rebirth.
In his poem, "The Sun Rising," Donne immerses the reader into his transmuted reality with an apostrophe to the "busy old fool, unruly sun" that "through curtains" calls upon him, seizing him from the bliss which "no season knows." This bliss, a passionate love, stimulates him to reinvent reality within the confines of his own mind, a wishful thinking from which he does not readily depart, much like a sleepy child clings to the consequences of a dream.
During this specific night, an army of mysterious, murky clouds seized control of divine sky, devouring the sun. Favored by the troops, the moon, displaying its glorious luminescence upon a shadowy city, wins a triumphant victory over the sun. A ferocious leader of the army activates the withdrawal then leads dedicated soldiers to west as if they are tracking down a wild dog. On the other hand, the city transmits its vivid and righteous illuminations back to the sky to let people in the “second floor” know that “era of tranquility” began. Imagine the astonishing night, rigid and bright buildings lie elegantly on the moonlight sky, bring lights gaze from the thousands of bulbs. It is beautiful, yet no one knows what beauty is upon them.