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Exposure GCSE English poem - Statistics
General Stats
- This quiz has been taken 1 time
- The average score is 8 of 47
Answer Stats
| hint | Answer | % Correct |
|---|---|---|
| But nothing happens | 100%
| |
| But nothing happens | 100%
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| But nothing happens | 100%
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| But nothing happens | 100%
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| Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army | 100%
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| For love of God seems dying | 100%
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| Therefore. not loath, we lie out here: therefore were born | 100%
| |
| We turn back to our dying | 100%
| |
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| SPACE | 1 | 0%
|
| Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of grey, | 0%
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| Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed | 0%
| |
| Far off, like some dull rumour of some other war | 0%
| |
| For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid | 0%
| |
| For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs; | 0%
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| Is it that we are dying? | 0%
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| Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow | 0%
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| Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles | 0%
| |
| Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses | 0%
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| Low, drooping flares confuse our memories of the salient | 0%
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| Nor ever suns smile true on child, or field or fruit | 0%
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| Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles | 0%
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| Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us | 0%
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| Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our faces | 0%
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| Pause over half known faces. All their eyes are ice | 0%
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| Shrivelling many hands, puckering foreheads crisp | 0%
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| Shutters and doors all closed: on us the doors are closed | 0%
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| Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn | 0%
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| Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires, glozed | 0%
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| Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence | 0%
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| The burying party, with picks and shovels in shaking grasp | 0%
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| The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow | 0%
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| Tonight this frost will fasten on this mud and us | 0%
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| aka '1' | Watching, we hear the mad husts tugging on the wire | 0%
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| Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent | 0%
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| We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare snow-dazed | 0%
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| We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy | 0%
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| We watch them wandering up and down the winds nonchalance | 0%
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| What are we doing here? | 0%
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| With crusted dark red jewels; crickets jingle there; | 0%
| |
| With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause and renew | 0%
| |
| Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous | 0%
|
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