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Gender Blending: Guess The Sex Of The Poet

10 Questions  I  By Davec521
Poet Quizzes & Trivia
This is a wholly unscientific survey, meant only to satisfy my own intellectual curiosity. No matter what the results, I will not draw any real conclusions from it, and would suggest you do the same.

In the best of all possible worlds, I would use entire poems, but because of copyright considerations, I must limit the choices to lines and or stanzas.

Instructions: Read the passage and using all your powers of deduction and/or gut instinct, identify the writer of the passage as either male or female.
Enjoy.

I will publish the results in a future blog post at www. Hcpl. Net/Read/Poetry

  
Changes are done, please start the quiz.


Question Excerpt

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1.  To thee, pure sprite, to thee alone’s addressed spiritThis coupled work, by double int’rest thine:First raised by thy blessed hand, and what is mineInspired by thee, thy secret power impressed.So dared my Muse with thine itself combine,As mortal stuff with that which is divine.Thy light’ning beams give luster to the rest,
A.
B.
2.  I, that on Sunday at the church-stile found     A garland sweet, with true-love knots in flowers, Which I to wear about mine arm was bound,     That each of us might know that all was ours:          Must I now lead an idle life in wishes,          And follow Cupid for his loaves and fishes?
A.
B.
3.  Everything contains some    silence. Noise gets its zest from the small shark's-tooth shaped fragments of rest angled in it.
A.
B.
4.       I, with a shift             of my skin, divest my self             to become the rock             that shadows it.             Think of when             your reading eyes momentarily drift,             and in that instant  
A.
B.
5.  How is it that you hold such influence over me: your practiced slouch, your porkpie hat at rakish angle, commending the dumpling-shaped lump atop your pelvis— as if we’ve one more thing to consider amidst the striptease of all your stanzas and all your lines—
A.
B.
6.  Reader unmov’d and Reader unshaken, Reader unseduc’d    and unterrified, through the long-loud and the sweet-still    I creep toward you. Toward you, I thistle and I climb. I crawl, Reader, servile and cervine, through this blank    season, counting—I sleep and I sleep. I sleep, Reader, toward you, loud as a cloud and deaf, Reader, deaf
A.
B.
7.  Then the gun men come and then The one in blond fox   Clutching the Book of Ruin In his clean, white hands.   From the barn I could see the star Of his horse as it galloped toward us.
A.
B.
8.  Mothers of America                            let your kids go to the movies! get them out of the house so they won’t know what you’re up to    it’s true that fresh air is good for the body                                                                    but what about the soul  
A.
B.
9.  A porcupine skin, Stiff with bad tanning, It must have ended somewhere. Stuffed horned owl Pompous
A.
B.
10.  Can we believe—by an effort comfort our hearts: it is not waste all this, not placed here in disgust, street after street, each patterned alike, no grace to lighten a single house of the hundred crowded into one garden-space.
A.
B.
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