Themes and Analysis of Birches

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Themes and Analysis of Birches In the adolescent years we are young, we are strong, tall and unbent

due to inexperience of childhood which is a very important and

necessary part of youth. "Birches" illustrates the author’s ability to

take the regular activities of life and transform it, giving it a much

deeper interpretation. The reader perceives the poem to refer to a

young country boy "whose only play was what he found himself," in this

situation, finding entertainment in riding birch branches. The poem,

though appearance may seem quite literal in language, is very

interpretive when closely viewed. “Birches” contains deeper themes of

life, love, aging and death as well as good and evil which are to be

conveyed in this essay.

The poem opens with a description of the activities of the young.

Frost contemplates the simplicity of childhood: “I like to think some

boy’s been swinging them.” When we are young we are erect and straight

such as the birch tree. The author implies the theme of aging by

imagery of “straighter and darker trees…” Frost vividly describes the

shape of the branches of the birch tree to show the overwhelming

weight of the ice storm. “Then bend them down to stay.” Frost uses the

“ice storms” to describe the power of the journey through life and its

toll that it takes. The author portrays the ice storms as dominant

over the submissive branches. Frost uses this graphic detail to imply

that the pla...

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...that life at its best is

climbing a birch tree when young, seeing things how they really are,

in black and white, without opinions shaped by life. “That would be

good going and coming …. One could do worse than be a swinger of

birches”

I'd like to get away from earth awhile

And then come back to it and begin over.

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May no fate wilfully misunderstand me

And half grant what I wish and snatch me away

Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:

I don't know where it's likely to go better.

I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,

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And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk

Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,

But dipped its top and set me down again.

That would be good both going and coming back.

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

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