Analysis of Don Juan: Canto The Tenth
George Gordon Lord Byron 1788 (London) – 1824 (Missolonghi, Aetolia)
When Newton saw an apple fall, he found
In that slight startle from his contemplation--
'Tis said (for I 'll not answer above ground
For any sage's creed or calculation)--
A mode of proving that the earth turn'd round
In a most natural whirl, called 'gravitation;'
And this is the sole mortal who could grapple,
Since Adam, with a fall or with an apple.
Man fell with apples, and with apples rose,
If this be true; for we must deem the mode
In which Sir Isaac Newton could disclose
Through the then unpaved stars the turnpike road,
A thing to counterbalance human woes:
For ever since immortal man hath glow'd
With all kinds of mechanics, and full soon
Steam-engines will conduct him to the moon.
And wherefore this exordium?--Why, just now,
In taking up this paltry sheet of paper,
My bosom underwent a glorious glow,
And my internal spirit cut a caper:
And though so much inferior, as I know,
To those who, by the dint of glass and vapour,
Discover stars and sail in the wind's eye,
I wish to do as much by poesy.
In the wind's eye I have sail'd, and sail; but for
The stars, I own my telescope is dim:
But at least I have shunn'd the common shore,
And leaving land far out of sight, would skim
The ocean of eternity: the roar
Of breakers has not daunted my slight, trim,
But still sea-worthy skiff; and she may float
Where ships have founder'd, as doth many a boat.
We left our hero, Juan, in the bloom
Of favouritism, but not yet in the blush;
And far be it from my Muses to presume
(For I have more than one Muse at a push)
To follow him beyond the drawing-room:
It is enough that Fortune found him flush
Of youth, and vigour, beauty, and those things
Which for an instant clip enjoyment's wings.
But soon they grow again and leave their nest.
'Oh!' saith the Psalmist, 'that I had a dove's
Pinions to flee away, and be at rest!'
And who that recollects young years and loves,--
Though hoary now, and with a withering breast,
And palsied fancy, which no longer roves
Beyond its dimm'd eye's sphere,--but would much rather
Sigh like his son, than cough like his grandfather?
But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow,
So narrow as to shame their wintry brink,
Which threatens inundations deep and yellow!
Such difference doth a few months make. You 'd think
Grief a rich field which never would lie fallow;
No more it doth, its ploughs but change their boys,
Who furrow some new soil to sow for joys.
But coughs will come when sighs depart--and now
And then before sighs cease; for oft the one
Will bring the other, ere the lake-like brow
Is ruffled by a wrinkle, or the sun
Of life reach'd ten o'clock: and while a glow,
Hectic and brief as summer's day nigh done,
O'erspreads the cheek which seems too pure for clay,
Thousands blaze, love, hope, die,--how happy they!
But Juan was not meant to die so soon.
We left him in the focus of such glory
As may be won by favour of the moon
Or ladies' fancies--rather transitory
Perhaps; but who would scorn the month of June,
Because December, with his breath so hoary,
Must come? Much rather should he court the ray,
To hoard up warmth against a wintry day.
Besides, he had some qualities which fix
Middle-aged ladies even more than young:
The former know what's what; while new-fledged chicks
Know little more of love than what is sung
In rhymes, or dreamt (for fancy will play tricks)
In visions of those skies from whence Love sprung.
Some reckon women by their suns or years,
I rather think the moon should date the dears.
And why? because she's changeable and chaste.
I know no other reason, whatsoe'er
Suspicious people, who find fault in haste,
May choose to tax me with; which is not fair,
Nor flattering to 'their temper or their taste,'
As my friend Jeffrey writes with such an air:
However, I forgive him, and I trust
He will forgive himself;--if not, I must.
Old enemies who have become new friends
Should so continue--'tis a point of honour;
And I know nothing which could make amends
For a return to hatred: I would shun her
Like garlic, howsoever she extends
Her hundred arms and legs, and fain outrun her.
Old flames, new wives, become our bitterest foes--
Converted foes should scorn to join with those.
This were the worst desertion:- renegadoes,
Even shuffling Southey, that incarnate lie,
Would scarcely join again the 'reformadoes,'
Whom he forsook to fill the laureate's sty:
And honest men from I
Scheme | ABABABCC DEDEDEFF GHIHIHJD KLKLKLMM NONXNOPP QDQXQDHH RIRIRISS GBGBIBTT FUFUFUTT VWVWVWXD XHXYXYZZ 1 H1 H1 HDD DJDJJ |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101110111 0111011010 11111110011 1101011010 0111010111 00110011010 01101101110 11010111110 1111001101 1111111101 0111010101 10111011 011100101 1101010111 1111010011 1101011101 0111111 01011101110 1100101001 01010101010 01110100111 1111011101 0101010011 11111111 00111110111 011111011 1111110101 0101111111 0101010001 1101110111 1111010111 11110111001 1110101001 11111001 01111110101 1111111101 1101010101 1101110111 110110011 11110111 1111010111 110111101 111010111 011011101 11010101001 011011101 01111111110 1111111110 1101011011 11000101010 1101111101 1100101010 110010111111 1011110111 1111111111 1101111111 1111110101 0101111101 1101010111 1101010101 1111010101 1001110111 101111111 1011111101 111111111 11100101110 111111101 1101010100 0111110111 01010111110 1111011101 1111010101 0111110011 1011010111 0101111111 1101111111 0111110111 0101111111 1101011111 1101011101 0101110001 11110101 0101011101 1111111111 11001110111 1111011111 101011011 1101011111 1100110111 1101010111 0111011101 10011101110 1101101 01010101010 111101101001 0101111111 10010101 1010110101 11010101 110111011 010111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,328 |
Words | 811 |
Sentences | 25 |
Stanzas | 13 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 5 |
Lines Amount | 101 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 263 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 62 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 4:08 min read
- 233 Views
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"Don Juan: Canto The Tenth" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/15066/don-juan%3A-canto-the-tenth>.
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