Theme of Some Important Literary Pieces
Writers | Works | Theme |
| Alexander Pope | The Rape of the Lock |
|
| Anita Desai | Games at Twilight |
|
| Aldous Huxley | Selected Snobberies |
|
| Ben Johnson | Volpone |
|
| Christopher Marlowe | Dr. Faustus |
|
| The Jew of Malta |
| |
| Tamburlaine the Great |
| |
| Charles Dickens | Great Expectations |
|
| David Copperfield | Autobiographical touch | |
| Autobiographical touch | The main theme of this novel is French Revolution. A true picture of lives in the two capitals, London and Paris. |
# বহুনির্বাচনী প্রশ্ন
There were good and bad storytellers.. A good one could tell the same story over and over again, and it would always be fresh to us, the listeners. He or she could tell a story told by someone else and make it more alive and dramatic. The differences really were in the use of words and images and the inflexion of voices to effect different tones. We therefore learnt to value words for their meaning and nuances. Language was not a more a string of words. It had a suggestive power well belong the immediate and lexical meaning. Our appreciation of the suggestive magical power of language was reinforced by the games we played with words through riddles, proverbs, transpositions of syllables, or through nonsensical but musically arranged words.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely aid more temperate:
Rough winds to shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines.,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd ;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd :
But they eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade.
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So bug as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land!"
Whose heart hath near within him burned
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand.
if such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentrated all in self.
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonoured and unsung.
The ring, so worn as you behold,
So thin, so pale, is yet of gold:
The passion such it was to prove-
Worn with life's care, love yet was love.
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