CTET Paper-I English: Questions 38 - 46 of 294
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Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth,
And spotted the dangers beneath
All the toffees I chewed,
And the sweet sticky food.
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth.
I wish I’d been that much more willin’
When I had more tooth there than fillin’
To give up gobstoppers.
From respect to me choppers,
And to buy something else with me shillin’.
When I think of the lollies I licked
And the liquorice all sorts I picked,
Sherbet dabs, big and little,
All that hard peanut brittle,
My conscience gets horribly pricked.
My mother, she told me no end,
‘If you got a tooth, you got a friend. ‘
I was young then, and careless,
My toothbrush was hairless,
I never had much time to spend.
Oh I showed them the toothpaste all right,
I flashed it about late at night,
But up and down brishin’
And pokin’ and fussin’
Didn’t seem worth the time I would bite!
If I’d known I was paving the way
To cavities, caps and decay,
The murder of fillin’s,
Injections and drillin’s,
I’d have thrown all me shebet away.
So I lie in the old dentist’s chair,
And I gaze up his nose in despair,
And his drill it do whine
In these molars of mine.
‘Two amalgam, ’ he’ll say, ‘for in there. ‘
How I laughed at my mother’s false teeth,
As they foamed in the waters beneath.
But now comes the reckonin’
It’s methey are beckonin’
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth.
- Pam Ayres
Question number: 38 (5 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
Question number: 39 (6 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
As I Watch You Grow
Do you know how much you mean to me?
As you grow into what you will be.
You came from within, from just beneath my heart
It’s there you’ll always be though your own life will now start.
You’re growing so fast it sends me a whirl,
With misty eyes I ask, where’s my little girl?
I know sometimes to you I seem harsh and so unfair,
But one day you will see, I taught you well because I care.
The next few years will so quickly fly,
With laughter and joy, mixed with a few tears to cry.
As you begin your growth to womanhood, this fact you must know,
You’ll always be my source of pride, no matter where you go,
You must stand up tall and proud, within you feel no fear,
For all you dreams and goals, sit before you very near.
With God’s love in your heart and the world by its tail,
You’ll always be my winner and victory will prevail.
For you this poem was written, with help from above,
To tell you in a rhythm of your mother’s heart felt love!
Question number: 40 (1 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
Question number: 41 (2 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
Question number: 42 (3 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
Question number: 43 (4 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
Question number: 44 (5 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
Question number: 45 (6 of 6 Based on Passage) Show Passage
And who art thou? said I to the soft-falling shower,
Which, strange to tell, gave me an answer, as here translated:
I am the Poem of Earth, said the voice of the rain,
Eternal I rise impalpable out of the land and the bottomless sea,
Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely form’d,
altogether changed, and yet the same,
I descend to lave the drouths, atomies, dust-layers of the globe,
And all that in them without me were seeds only,
And forever, by day and night, I give back life to
my own origin, and make pure and beautiful it;
(For song, issuing from its birth-place, after fulfilment, wandering, Reck’d or unreck’d, duly with love returns. )
The poet Walt Whitman writes of a conversation he once had with the rain as it dropped gently from the heavens. ‘Who are you? ’ the poet asked. Strangely, the raindrops replied and the poet translates its answer for the readers.
The poem is written from the point of view of someone who asked the rain who it was and was answered, it saying “I am the poem of the earth”, then proceeding to tell how it comes from the Earth, only to return once againt to wash it and nourish it… that if it were not for the rain, seeds would remain seeds and not flower into their full potential… giving back life to its origin. Then, the poem’s “turn” uses this story as a segway to show how “song, issuing from its birth-place, after fulfillment, wandering, Reck’d or unreck’d, duly with love returns. “
Meaning that songs come from the sould and after they’ve been heard, and thought good or bad, return with love. Just as rain rises and falls back again, so do poems, songs and other forms of beauty from the soul.
– Walt Whitman