Contexts of American Poetry Before 1925

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,  Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,  Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,  Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.  Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean  Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

During what decade was this poem first published?

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,  Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,  Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,  Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.  Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean  Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

What type of poem is this?

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,  Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,  Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,  Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.  Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean  Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

The author of this poem also wrote which of the following works?

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."’t is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—Only this, and nothing more."

Who is the author of this poem?

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."’t is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—Only this, and nothing more."

During what era was this poem first published?

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."’t is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—Only this, and nothing more."

The author of this poem also wrote all but which one of the following works?

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."’t is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—Only this, and nothing more."

Which of the following poets would be least likely to employ a meter similar to the one in this passage?

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,  Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,  Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,  Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.  Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean  Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

Who is the author of this poem?

My long two-pointed ladder"s sticking through a tree
    Toward heaven still,
    And there"s a barrel that I didn"t fill
    Beside it, and there may be two or three
    Apples I didn"t pick upon some bough.
    But I am done with apple-picking now.
    Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
    The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.

In what collection was this poem first published?

Thou hast a house on high erect
Framed by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent though this be fled.
It‘s purchased and paid for too
By Him who hath enough to do.
A price so vast as is unknown,
Yet by His gift is made thine own;
There‘s wealth enough, I need no more,
Farewell, my pelf, farewell, my store.
The world no longer let me love,
My hope and treasure lies above.

Who wrote this poem?