Do Not Go Gantle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas.

Dylan Thomas.

• Dylan Marlais Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953) was a Welsh poet who wrote exclusively in English. In addition to poetry, he wrote short stories and scripts for film and radio, which he often performed himself. His public readings, particularly in America, won him great acclaim; his sonorous voice with a subtle Welsh lilt became almost as famous as his works. His best-known works include the "play for voices"Under Milk Wood and the celebrated villanelle for his dying father; do not go gentle into that good night.

• Dylan Thomas was born in the front upstairs bedroom at 5 Cwmdonkin Drive, situated in the Uplands area of Swansea, Wales, United Kingdom on 27 October 1914. Uplands was, and still is, one of the more affluent areas of the city, which kept him away from the more industrial side of the city.
  

• His father, David John Thomas, was an English master who taught English literature at the local grammar school. His mother, Florence Hannah Thomas (née Williams), was a seamstress born in Swansea. Dylan had a sister, Nancy, eight years older than him. Their father brought up both children to speak English only, even though both parents also knew Welsh.

Do Not Gentle into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

First stanza:

Old age, says the poet, should be filled with passion in its struggle against death.

Second stanza:

Wise men know that death is inevitable and yet even they fight to prolong their lives so as to have more time to perform some great feat.

Third stanza:

Good men are not afraid to die because they will be going straight to heaven. But, says the poet, even they will fight against death because there is so much more that they could be doing in this life.

Fourth stanza:

Adventurous men, people who live life differently or who live carefree lives ("sang the sun in flight") also realize when it is too late that they could have done much more with their time on earth.

Fifth stanza:

Serious men who suddenly see ("blinding sight") that they have been blind and have not lived life to the full ("could blaze like meteors and be gay") will also fight against death.

Sixth stanza:

The poet now turns more particularly to his own father who seems to have withdrawn from the world and has distanced himself from those who love him ("there on the sad height").

Literary Devices

The form on the poem is a villanelle, with a rime scheme alternating “night” and “day.”

“Good night” is a metaphor and a pun. “Dying of the light” is a metaphor.

“Old age should burn and rave” in line two is a combination of metonymy and personification. “Close of day” is a metaphor.

“Burn” in that same line is used metaphorically, as is “dark” in line four. In line five “their words had forked no lightning” is metaphorical.

Line eight “Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay” employs personification and metaphor.

Line ten “Wild men who sang the sun in flight” is exaggeration and metaphor.

Line 11 “they grieved it on its way” is also exaggeration and metaphor.

Line 13 “Grave” is a pun; “blinding sight” is an oxymoron.

Line 14 “Blind eyes could blaze like meteors” is a simile.

Line 17 “Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray” is a paradox.