Analysis of The Muse
George Wither 1588 (Bentworth) – 1667
She doth tell me where to borrow
Comfort in the midst of sorrow:
Makes the desolatest place
To her presence be a grace;
And the blackest discontents
Be her fairest ornaments,
In my former days of bliss,
Her divine skill taught me this,
That from everything I saw,
I could some invention draw,
And raise pleasure to her height,
Through the meanest object's sight;
By the murmur of a spring,
Or the least bough's rustleing.
By a daisy, whose leaves spread,
Shut when Titan goes to bed;
Or a shady bush or tree,
She could more infuse in me,
Than all Nature's beauties can
In some other wiser man.
By her help I also now
Make this churlish place allow
Some things that may sweeten gladness,
In the very gall of sadness.
The dull loneness, the black shade,
That these hanging vaults have made;
The strange music of the waves,
Beating on these hollow caves;
This black den which rocks emboss,
Overgrown with eldest moss:
The rude portals that give light
More to terror than delight;
This my chamber of neglect,
Walled about with disrespect.
From all these, and this dull air,
A fit object for despair,
She hath taught me by her might
To draw comfort and delight.
Therefore, thou best earthly bliss,
I will cherish thee for this.
Poesy, thou sweet'st content
That e'er heaven to mortals lent:
Though they as a trifle leave thee,
Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee,
Though thou be to them a scorn,
That to nought but earth are born,
Let my life no longer be
Than I am in love with thee,
Though our wise ones call thee madness,
Let me never taste of gladness,
If I love not thy madd'st fits
Above all their greatest wits.
And though some, too seeming holy,
Do account thy raptures folly,
Thou dost teach me to contemn
What makes knaves and fools of them.
Scheme | AABBCDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLBMNNOOPPGGQQRRGGEESSJJTTJJMBUUJJKV |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111111 10001110 1011 1010101 001001 1010100 0110111 0011111 111011 1110101 0110101 101011 1010101 10111 1010111 1110111 1010111 1110101 1110101 0110101 1011101 1110101 1111101 00101110 011011 1110111 0110101 1011101 1111101 011101 0110111 1110101 1110101 101101 1110111 0110101 1111101 1110001 111101 1110111 111110 110101101 11101011 11110011 1111101 1111111 1111101 1110111 110111110 1110111 11111111 0111101 01111010 1011110 111111 1110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,705 |
Words | 321 |
Sentences | 9 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 56 |
Lines Amount | 56 |
Letters per line (avg) | 25 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,377 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 319 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:38 min read
- 84 Views
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"The Muse" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/15837/the-muse>.
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