Analysis of The Assignation
Friedrich Schiller 1759 (Marbach am Neckar) – 1805 (Weimar)
Hear I the creaking gate unclose?
The gleaming latch uplifted?
No--'twas the wind that, whirring, rose,
Amidst the poplars drifted!
Adorn thyself, thou green leaf-bowering roof,
Destined the bright one's presence to receive,
For her, a shadowy palace-hall aloof
With holy night, thy boughs familiar weave.
And ye sweet flatteries of the delicate air,
Awake and sport her rosy cheek around,
When their light weight the tender feet shall bear,
When beauty comes to passion's trysting-ground.
Hush! what amidst the copses crept--
So swiftly by me now?
No-'twas the startled bird that swept
The light leaves of the bough!
Day, quench thy torch! come, ghostlike, from on high,
With thy loved silence, come, thou haunting Eve,
Broaden below thy web of purple dye,
Which lulled boughs mysterious round us weave.
For love's delight, enduring listeners none,
The froward witness of the light will flee;
Hesper alone, the rosy silent one,
Down-glancing may our sweet familiar be!
What murmur in the distance spoke,
And like a whisper died?
No--'twas the swan that gently broke
In rings the silver tide!
Soft to my ear there comes a music-flow;
In gleesome murmur glides the waterfall;
To zephyr's kiss the flowers are bending low;
Through life goes joy, exchanging joy with all.
Tempt to the touch the grapes--the blushing fruit,
Voluptuous swelling from the leaves that bide;
And, drinking fever from my cheek, the mute
Air sleeps all liquid in the odor-tide!
Hark! through the alley hear I now
A footfall? Comes the maiden?
No,--'twas the fruit slid from the bough,
With its own richness laden!
Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death,
And pale and paler wane his jocund hues,
The flowers too gentle for his glowing breath,
Ope their frank beauty to the twilight dews.
The bright face of the moon is still and lone,
Melts in vast masses the world silently;
Slides from each charm the slowly-loosening zone;
And round all beauty, veilless, roves the eye.
What yonder seems to glimmer?
Her white robe's glancing hues?
No,--'twas the column's shimmer
Athwart the darksome yews!
O, longing heart, no more delight-upbuoyed
Let the sweet airy image thee befool!
The arms that would embrace her clasp the void
This feverish breast no phantom-bliss can cool,
O, waft her here, the true, the living one!
Let but my hand her hand, the tender, feel--
The very shadow of her robe alone!--
So into life the idle dream shall steal!
As glide from heaven, when least we ween,
The rosy hours of bliss,
All gently came the maid, unseen:--
He waked beneath her kiss!
Scheme | ABAXCDCDEFEF GHGHIDIDJKJK LMLMNONOPMPM HJHJ QAQARKRI SASA BKXXJTRT HAXA |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101011 0101100 11011101 010110 01111111 1001110101 10010010101 1101110101 0111101001 0101010101 1111010111 11011111 1101011 110111 11010111 011101 111111111 1111011101 1001111101 1110100111 11010101001 011010111 1001010101 11011010101 11000101 010101 11011101 010101 1111110101 01101010 1110101101 1111010111 1101010101 01001010111 0101011101 1111000101 11010111 011010 11011101 1111010 1101110011 01011111 01011011101 111101011 0111011101 1011001100 11110101001 011101101 1101110 011101 110110 01011 110111011 101101011 0111010101 11001110111 1101010101 1111010101 010110101 1011010111 111101111 0101011 11010101 110101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,521 |
Words | 436 |
Sentences | 30 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 12, 12, 12, 4, 8, 4, 8, 4 |
Lines Amount | 64 |
Letters per line (avg) | 31 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 249 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 54 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:14 min read
- 99 Views
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"The Assignation" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/14364/the-assignation>.
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