“Comparative Analysis of Spenser’s Amoretti LXVII and Brooks’ “my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell””

Length: A typical essay with a short introduction, three body paragraphs, and a short conclusion is about
1250 words (about 4-5 pages, double-spaced). An essay <1000 words cannot pass, and please do not exceed 1500 words.Task: Perform a comparative analysis of any two of the poems listed on page two to prove a single thesis. Your argument should be based on your own interpretation of the primary texts, which you should illustrate through careful analysis of the poems’ formal features and well-integrated quotations. • Rather than simply observing that the two poems consider a similar topic or use a similar technique, and then discussing each poem separately, you should draw on aspects of each poem to illuminate aspects of the other. Try to implicitly answer the question, “What can we observe by looking at these poems together that we could not learn if we looked at them individually?” • The essay should offer a specific and sustained engagement with some of the formal features discussed in class (for example, genre, meter, rhyme, stanza structure, figurative language, and rhetorical figures). Beyond just name-dropping literary devices or techniques, try to specify why that device is useful or how it operates in the poems. Amoretti LXVII: Like as a Huntsman BY EDMUND SPENSER Like as a huntsman after weary chase, Seeing the game from him escap'd away, Sits down to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their prey: So after long pursuit and vain assay, When I all weary had the chase forsook, The gentle deer return'd the self-same way, Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook. There she beholding me with milder look, Sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide: Till I in hand her yet half trembling took, And with her own goodwill her firmly tied. Strange thing, me seem'd, to see a beast so wild, So goodly won, with her own will beguil'd. my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell BY GWENDOLYN BROOKS I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can tell when I may dine again. No man can give me any word but Wait, The puny light. I keep eyes pointed in; Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt Drag out to their last dregs and I resume On such legs as are left me, in such heart As I can manage, remember to go home, My taste will not have turned insensitive To honey and bread old purity could love.