The Giant Puffball

Read 'The Giant Puffball' by 'Edmund Blunden' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.

The Giant Puffball by Edmund Blunden

    From what sad star I know not, but I found
    Myself new-born below the coppice rail,
    No bigger than the dewdrops and as round,
    In a soft sward, no cattle might assail.

    And so I gathered mightiness and grew
    With this one dream kindling in me, that I
    Should never cease from conquering light and dew
    Till my white splendour touched the trembling sky.

    A century of blue and stilly light
    Bowed down before me, the dew came again,
    The moon my sibyl worshipped through the night,
    The sun returned and long abode; but then

    Hoarse drooping darkness hung me with a shroud
    And switched at me with shrivelled leaves in scorn.
    Red morning stole beneath a grinning cloud,
    And suddenly clambering over dike and thorn

    A half-moon host of churls with flags and sticks
    Hallooed and hurtled up the partridge brood,
    And Death clapped hands from all the echoing thicks,
    And trampling envy spied me where I stood;

    Who haled me tired and quaking, hid me by,
    And came again after an age of cold,
    And hung me in the prison-house adry
    From the great crossbeam. Here defiled and old

    I perish through unnumbered hours, I swoon,
    Hacked with harsh knives to staunch a child's torn hand;
    And all my hopes must with my body soon
    Be but as crouching dust and wind-blown sand.


Form: Iambic Pentameter Comments

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