Read the poem slowly through to yourself, getting what you can out of it, without trying too hard. Note that after the third stanza the earth is compared to a ship. After you have read the poem through, go back and study it with the help of the following questions and suggestions:—
The author is out on the moors not far from the sea: What details does he select to make you feel the beauty of the afternoon? What words in the first stanza suggest movement and freedom? Why does the author stop to tell about the flowers, when he has so many important things to say? Note a change of tone at the beginning of the fourth stanza. What suggests to the author that the earth is like a ship? Why does he say that it is not a steadfast place? How does the fifth stanza remind you of The Ancient Mariner? Why does the author speak so passionately at the beginning of the sixth stanza? Here he wonders whether there is really any plan in the universe, or whether things all go by chance. Who are the captains of whom he speaks? What different types of people are represented in the last two lines of stanza six? What is the "noisome hold" of the Earth ship? Who are those cursing and sighing? Who are they in the line, "But they said, 'Thou art not of us!'"? Who are they in the next line but one? Why does the author turn back to the flowers in the next few lines? What is omitted from the line beginning "To be out"? Explain the last three lines of stanza eight. How do the ships of Gloucester differ from the ship Earth? What is the "arriving" spoken of in the last stanza? What two possibilities does the author suggest as to the fate of the ship? Why does he end his poem with a question? What is the purpose of the poem? Why is it considered good? What do you think was the author's feeling about the way the poor and helpless are treated? Read the poem through aloud, thinking what each line means.
ROAD-HYMN FOR THE START
WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY
Leave the early bells at chime,
Leave the kindled hearth to blaze,
Leave the trellised panes where children linger out the waking-time,
Leave the forms of sons and fathers trudging through the misty ways,
Leave the sounds of mothers taking up their sweet laborious days.
Pass them by! even while our soul
Yearns to them with keen distress.
Unto them a part is given; we will strive to see the whole.
Dear shall be the banquet table where their singing spirits press;
Dearer be our sacred hunger, and our pilgrim loneliness.
We have felt the ancient swaying
Of the earth before the sun,
On the darkened marge of midnight heard sidereal rivers playing;
Rash it was to bathe our souls there, but we plunged and all was done.
That is lives and lives behind us—lo, our journey is begun!
Careless where our face is set,
Let us take the open way.
What we are no tongue has told us: Errand-goers who forget?
Soldiers heedless of their harry? Pilgrim people gone astray?
We have heard a voice cry "Wander!" That was all we heard it say.