Analysis of Sabbath Sonnet
Felicia Dorothea Hemans 1793 (Liverpool, Lancashire) – 1835 (Dublin, County Dublin)
How many blessed groups this hour are bending,
Through England's primrose meadow-paths, their way
Towards spire and tower, 'midst shadowy elms ascending,
Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallowed day!
The halls from old heroic ages gray
Pour their fair children forth; and hamlets low,
With those thick orchard-blooms the soft winds play,
Send out their inmates in a happy flow,
Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread
With them those pathways, to the feverish bed
Of sickness bound; yet, O my God! I bless
Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled
My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilled
To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.
|Metre||11011110110 11011111 01101011001010 1011010101 0111010101 1111010101 1111010111 111100101 1011011111 1111101001 1101111111 1101110111 110101111 1111111|
|Closest metre||Iambic pentameter|
|Letters per line (avg)||38|
|Words per line (avg)||8|
|Letters per stanza (avg)||525|
|Words per stanza (avg)||110|
Submitted on May 13, 2011
- 34 sec read
- 230 Views
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"Sabbath Sonnet" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 21 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/13530/sabbath-sonnet>.
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