Past Papers Balochistan PCS Chemistry

The beautiful is beautiful anyway. So why embellish it with words. The eye, too long used to green And fruitful movement, is parched For a desert beneficence, seeking Subtleties where none seem to exist. For instance, in Jhelum’s eroded hills Where we have stopped for a moment to Relieve ourselves. They always remind me Of…

Pakistan Movement by Alamgir Hashmi PART 1 Movement, sure. Millions moving From that side to this side, From this side to that side, and back again sometimes, Across the thoughtful movement Wherein stood those who were undecided, and suspect, Like border-posts signifying the mid-frontier. The sultry summer-if you know what I mean-behind us. The blistering…

Morning Song By Sylvia Plath Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among the elements. Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue. In a drafty museum, your nakedness Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls. I’m no more…

Digging By Seamus Heaney Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm…

Woman Work By Maya Angelou I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry The baby to dry I got company to feed The garden to weed I’ve got shirts to press The tots to dress The cane to be cut…

One’s-Self I Sing By Walt Whitman One’s-Self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse. Of physiology from top to toe I sing, Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say the Form complete is worthier far, The Female equally with the Male I…

Kubla Khan By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there…

Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood By William Wordsworth The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. (Wordsworth, “My Heart Leaps Up”) There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To…

Holy Sonnets Death, be not proud By John Donne Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure;…

Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbl’d shore By William Shakespeare Like as the waves make towards the pebbl’d shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in the main of light, Crawls to…