Урок на тему 'The literary Heritage of English writers'

The Literary Heritage of English writers.

Good morning dear teachers and pupils! Welcome to our week of foreign language! Today we'll present you the Literary Heritage of English writers. So we'll start. Now Aidana will be released with a song "Uncover".

Now, pupils will be released with the poems of writers. First, Daneker start please.

Christopher Marlowe "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love"

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove,

That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods or steepy mountain yields.

Aktilek - Thomas Grey

Twas on a lofty vase's side,

Where China's gayest art had dy'd

The azure flow'rs that blow;

Demurest of the tabby kind,

The pensive Selima, reclin'd,

Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;

The fair round face, the snowy beard,

The velvet of her paws,

Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,

Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,

She saw: and purr'd applause.

Aidana - Charlotte Bronte "Life"

LIFE, believe, is not a dream

So dark as sages say;

Of a little morning rain

Foretells a pleasant day.

Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,

But these are transient all;

If the shower will make the roses bloom,

O why lament its fall ?

Shapagat - Charles Dickens

Autumn leaves,autumn leaves,lie strewn around he here.

Autumn leaves,autumn leaves,how sad,how cold,how drear!

How like the hopes ofchildhood's day.

Thick clust'ring on the bough!

How like those hopes in their decay-

How faded are they now!

Autumn leaves,autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;

Autumn leaves,autumn leaves,how sad,how cold,how drear!

Wither'd leaves,wither'd leaves,that fly before the gale:

Withered leaves,withered leaves,ye tell a mournful tale,

Of love once true,and friends once kind,

And happy moments fled:

Dispersed by every breath of wind,

Forgotten, changed, or dead!

Autumn leaves,autumn leaves,lie strewn around he here!

Autumn leaves,autumn leaves,how sad,how drear!

Gulnur - Jack London "In A Year"

In a year, in a year, when the grapes are ripe,

I shall stay no more away -

Then if you still are true, my love,

It will be our wedding day.

In a year, in a year, when my time is past -

Then I'll live in your love for aye.

Then if you still are true, my love,

It will be our wedding day.

Thank you for your attention!

School of Otes

The Literary Heritage of English writers

Rakhmet A.

Iztileu S.

2015-2016