A concentrated writing form in which authors use figurative language and other devices to create an emotional effect is called: <u>poetry</u>.
Poetry is a piece of literary work in which a poet constructed with rhythm, sound, and personal style as well as significant symbols, ideas, and striking images that evoke and represent specific feelings and events used to arise a particular emotion on the audience.
<span>This is a story about a young boy who is being driven to a cliff at an unspecified location on the California coastline. The driver interrogates the boy en route, suspicious of his experience with women, how well he has memorized the old man's instructions, his moral, spiritual, and emotional purity, and his impatience to get started with the initiation into what the old man calls “the spells.” </span>
In Browning's poem, "My Last Duchess," the Duke was married to his lovely wife, the Duchess, whose painting he has on the wall of his castle and is showing it to a visitor. As we read the poem, we find out that the Duchess liked to flirt a lot with other men which is why the Duke had her killed. I'm not sure who Browning seems to sympathize with - I guess <u>the Duchess</u>, given that she was murdered. The Duke is not the one who should be sympathized with.
Consonant is any letter that isn't a vowel such as d, r, f, g, h. Vowels are e, a, i, o, u
Answer:
After all i did it myself
you can draw a mountain with some green on the bottom and snow at the top
Explanation:
“Yet this part of the province, at a very small distance from the capital, is reckoned among the inhabited and cultivated portions of Iceland. What, then, must other tracts be, more desert than this desert? In the first half mile we had not seen one farmer standing before his cabin door, nor one shepherd tending a flock less wild than himself, nothing but a few cows and sheep left to themselves. What then would be those convulsed regions upon which we were advancing, regions subject to the dire phenomena of eruptions, the offspring of volcanic explosions and subterranean convulsions? We were to know them before long…”
“[Snæfellsjökull]’s snowy summit, by an optical illusion not unfrequent in mountains, seemed close to us, and yet how many weary hours it took to reach it! The stones, adhering by no soil or fibrous roots of vegetation, rolled away from under our feet, and rushed down the precipice below with the swiftness of an avalanche.”
“I was thus steeped in the marvellous ecstasy which all high summits develop in the mind; and now without giddiness, for I was beginning to be accustomed to these sublime aspects of nature. My dazzled eyes were bathed in the bright flood of the solar rays. I was forgetting where and who I was, to live the life of elves and sylphs, the fanciful creation of Scandinavian superstitions. I felt intoxicated…”