The trees bend down along the stream,
Where anchored swings my tiny boat.
The day is one to drowse and dream
And list the thrush's throttling note.
When music from his bosom bleeds
Among the river's rustling reeds.
No ripple stirs the placid pool,
When my adventurous line is cast,
A truce to sport, while clear and cool,
The mirrored clouds slide softly past.
The sky gives back a blue divine,
And all the world's wide wealth is mine.
A pickerel leaps, a bow of light,
The minnows shine from side to side.
The first faint breeze comes up the tide—
I pause with half uplifted oar,
While night drifts down to claim the shore.
[Readability and attribution]
NP: Non-Prose
Source: Dunbar, P. (1913). The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar.
Reread this stanza from the poem.
“The trees bend down along the stream,
Where anchored swings my tiny boat.”
This stanza helps the reader understand the poem by introducing—
Choose 1
Choose 1

(Choice A, Checked)
A

the characters.

(Choice B)
B

the setting.

(Choice C)
C

a simile.

(Choice D)
D

a conflict.

ps: follow my tic tok witch is joasainchopsticksv.2 everybody gets a shoutout