Page 7 Sound Devices in Poetry

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Steps to Reading a Poem

The elements of sound have contributed to poetry for well over a millennium.

Read the excerpt below from the poem “Beowulf” written between 700-900 AD.

It tells the story of two ancient tribes, the Danes (Denmark) and Geats (Sweden). Beowulf is a powerful Geat warrior who rescues the Danes from a monster, Grendel. This poem was a long chant of Beowulf’s heroic deeds and was accompanied by a harp. To aid in comprehension, the poem has

• a strong rhythm,
  
• onomatopoeia (identified in blue) and
  
• alliteration (identified in pink ).
  
• italics show internal rhyme

When we join them (this is not the beginning of the story or poem - we join at line 392)...Hrothgar, king of the Danes, has built a beautiful home (mead hall) called Herot.  His people gather to feast when a fierce and powerful monster named Grendel invades. Beowulf and his men fight the monster.

Beowulf

Out from the marsh, from the foot of misty
Hills and bogs, bearing God’s hatred,
Grendel came, hoping to kill

395 Anyone he could  trap on this trip  to high Herot.

He moved quickly through the cloudy night,
Up from his swampland, sliding silently
Toward that gold-shining hall. He had visited Hrothgar’s
Home before, knew the way—

400 But  never, before nor after that night ,

Found Herot defended so firmly, his reception
So harsh. He journeyed, forever joyless,
Straight to the door, then  snapped it open,
Tore  its iron fasteners with a  touch

405 And rushed angrily over the threshold.

He strode quickly across the inlaid
Floor, snarling  and fierce: His eyes
Gleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesome
Light. Then he stopped, seeing  the hall

410 Crowded with  sleeping warriors, stuffed

With rows of young soldiers resting together.
And his heart laughed, he relished the sight,
Intended to tear the life from those bodies
By morning; the monster's mind was hot

415 With the thought of food and the  feasting his belly

Would soon know. But fate, that night, intended
Grendel to gnaw the broken bones
Of his last human supper. Human
Eyes were watching his evil steps,

420 Waiting to see his swift hard claws.

Grendel snatched at the first Geat
He came to, ripped him apart, cut
His body  to bits with powerful jaws,
Drank the  blood from his veins, and  bolted

425 Him down, hands and feet; death

And Grendel’s great teeth came together,
Snapping life shut. Then he stepped to another
Still body, clutched at Beowulf with his claws,
Grasped at a strong-hearted wakeful sleeper

430 —And was instantly seized himself, claws

 Bent back as Beowulf  leaned up on one arm.
That shepherd of evil, guardian of crime,
Knew at once that nowhere on earth
Had he met a man whose hands were harder;

435 His mind was flooded with fear—but nothing

Could take his talons and himself from that tight
Hard grip. Grendel’s one thought was to run
From Beowulf, flee back to his marsh and hide there:
This was a different Herot than the hall he had emptied.

440 But Higlac’s follower remembered his final

Boast and, standing  erect, stopped
The monster’s flight, fastened  those claws
In his fists till they cracked, clutched Grendel
Closer. The infamous killer fought

445 For  his freedom, wanting no flesh but retreat,

Desiring nothing but escape; his claws
Had been caught he was trapped. That trip to Herot
Was a miserable journey for the writhing monster!
The high hall  rang, its roof boards swayed,

450 And Dales shook with terror.  Down

The aisles the battle swept, angry
And wild. Herot trembled, wonderfully
Built  to withstand the blows, the struggling
Great bodies beating at its  beautiful  walls;

455 Shaped and fastened  with iron, inside

And out, artfully worked, the building
Stood firm. Its benches rattled, fell
To thefloor, gold-covered boards grating
As Grendel and Beowulf battled across them.

460 Hrothgar’s wise men had fashioned Herot

To stand forever; only fire,
They had planned, could shatter what such skill had put
Together, swallow in hot flames such  splendor
Of ivory and iron and wood. Suddenly

465 The sounds 
changed, the Danes started

In new terror, cowering in their beds as the terrible
Screams of the Almighty’s enemy sang
In the darkness, the horrible shrieks  of pain
And defeat, the tears torn out of Grendel’s

470 Taut throat, hell’s captive caught in the arms

Of him who of all the men on earth
Was the strongest.
That mighty protector of men
Meant  to hold the monster till its life
Leaped  out, knowing the fiend was no use

475 To anyone in Denmark. All of Beowulf's

Band  had jumped from their beds, ancestral 
Swords raised  and ready, determined
To protect their prince if they could. Their courage
Was great but all wasted: They could hack at Grendel

480 From every side, trying to open

A path for his evil soul, but their points
Could not hurt him, the sharpest and hardest iron
Could not scratch  at his skin, for that sin-stained demon
Had bewitched all men’s weapons, laid spells

485 That blunted every mortal man's  blade.

And yet his time had come, his days
Were over, his death near; down
To hell he would go, swept groaning and helpless
To the waiting hands of still worse fiends.

490 Now he discovered—once the afflictor

Of men, tormentor of their days—what it meant
To feud with Almighty God: Grendel
Saw that his strength was deserting him, his claws
Bound fast, Higlac’s brave follower tearing at

495 His hands. The monster’s  hatred rose higher,

But his power had gone. He twisted in pain,
And the bleeding sinews deep in his shoulder
Snapped, muscle and bone split
And  broke. The battle was over…