Analysis of Brier: Good Friday
Emily Pauline Johnson 1861 – 1913
Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm
Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,
That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm,
I do not feel the thorns so much to-day.
Because I never knew your care to tire,
Your hand to weary guiding me aright,
Because you walk before and crush the brier,
It does not pierce my feet so much to-night.
Because so often you have hearkened to
My selfish prayers, I ask but one thing now,
That these harsh hands of mine add not unto
The crown of thorns upon your bleeding brow.
Scheme | ABABCDCDDEDE |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 0111110101 11010110111 1111111111 1111011111 01110111110 111101011 01110101010 1111111111 011101111 1101111111 1111111110 0111011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 520 |
Words | 102 |
Sentences | 4 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 12 |
Lines Amount | 12 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 407 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 100 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 24, 2023
- 30 sec read
- 86 Views
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"Brier: Good Friday" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/12570/brier%3A-good-friday>.
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