Analysis of Part I: Visions in the Smoke
Rest, and be thankful ! On the verge
Of the tall cliff rugged and grey,
But whose granite base the breakers surge,
And shiver their frothy spray,
Outstretched, I gaze on the eddying wreath
That gathers and flits away,
With the surf beneath, and between my teeth
The stem of the 'ancient clay'.
With the anodyne cloud on my listless eyes,
With its spell on my dreamy brain,
As I watch the circling vapours rise
From the brown bowl up to the sullen skies.
My vision becomes more plain,
Till a dim kaleidoscope succeeds
Through the smoke-rack drifting and veering,
Like ghostly riders on phantom steeds
To a shadowy goal careering.
In their own generation the wise may sneer,
They hold our sports in derision ;
Perchance to sophist, or sage, or seer,
Were allotted a graver vision.
Yet if man, of all the Creator plann'd,
His noblest work is reckoned,
Of the works of His hand, by sea or by land,
The horse may at least rank second.
Did they quail, those steeds of the squadrons light,
Did they flinch from the battle's roar,
When they burst on the guns of the Muscovite,
By the echoing Black Sea shore ?
On ! on ! to the cannon's mouth they stride,
With never a swerve nor a shy,
Oh ! the minutes of yonder maddening ride,
Long years of pleasure outvie !
No slave, but a comrade staunch, in this,
Is the horse, for he takes his share,
Not in peril alone, but in feverish bliss,
And in longing to do and dare.
Where bullets whistle, and round shot whiz,
Hoofs trample, and blades flash bare,
God send me an ending as fair as his
Who died in his stirrups there !
The wind has slumbered throughout the day,
Now a fitful gust springs over the bay,
My wandering thoughts no longer stray,
I'll fix my overcoat buttons ;
Secure my old hat as best I may
(And a shocking bad one it is, by the way),
Blow a denser cloud from my stunted clay,
And then, friend Bell, as the Frenchmen say,
We'll 'go back again to our muttons'.
There's a lull in the tumult on yonder hill,
And the clamour has grown less loud,
Though the Babel of tongues is never still,
With the presence of such a crowd.
The bell has rung. With their riders up
At the starting post they muster,
The racers stripp'd for the 'Melbourne Cup',
All gloss and polish and lustre ;
And the course is seen, with its emerald sheen,
By the bright spring-tide renew'd,
Like a ribbon of green, stretched out between
The ranks of the multitude.
The flag is lowered. 'They're off !' 'They come !'
The squadron is sweeping on ;
A sway in the crowd—a murmuring hum !
'They're here !' 'They're past !' 'They're gone !'
They came with the rush of the southern surf,
On the bar of the storm-girt bay ;
And like muffled drums on the sounding turf
Their hoof-strokes echo away.
The rose and black draws clear of the ruck,
And the murmur swells to a roar,
As the brave old colours that never were struck,
Are seen with the lead once more.
Though the feathery ferns and grasses wave
O'er the sod where Lantern sleeps,
Though the turf is green on Fisherman's grave,
The stable its prestige keeps.
Six lengths in front she scours along,
She's bringing the field to trouble ;
She's tailing them off, she's running strong,
She shakes her head and pulls double.
Now Minstrel falters and Exile flags,
The Barb finds the pace too hot,
And Toryboy loiters, and Playboy lags,
And the bolt of Ben Bolt is shot.
That she never may be caught this day,
Is the worst that the public wish her.
She won't be caught ; she comes right away ;
Hurrah for Seagull and Fisher ;
See, Strop falls back, though his reins are slack,
Sultana begins to tire,
And the top-weight tells on the Sydney crack,
And the pace on 'the Gippsland flyer'.
The rowels, as round the turn they sweep,
Just graze Tim Whiffler's flanks ;
Like the hunted deer that flies through the sheep,
He strides through the beaten ranks.
Daughter of Omen, prove your birth,
The colt will take lots of choking ;
The hot breath steams at your saddle girth,
From his scarlet nostril smoking.
The shouts of the Ring for a space subside,
And slackens the bookmaker's roar ;
Now, Davis, rally ; now, Carter, ride,
As man never rode before.
When Sparrowhawk's backers cease to cheer,
When Yattendon's friends are dumb,
When hushed is the clamour for Volunteer—
Alone in the race they come !
They're neck and neck ; they're head and head ;
They're stroke for stroke in the running ;
Th
Scheme | ABABCBCB DEDDEFGFG HIXIJKJK LMLMNXNO PQPQRQRQ BBBXBBBBD STSTUVUVWXWX YXYXOBOB ZMZMO1 O1 2 3 2 3 4 5 4 5 BVBV6 V6 V 7 8 7 8 9 G9 G NMNMHYHY XGX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 10110101 10111001 111010101 0101101 01111011 1100101 1010100111 0110101 101111101 11111101 111010011 1011110101 1100111 10101001 101110010 110101101 101001010 0110100111 111010010 01111111 001001010 1111100101 1101110 10111111111 01111110 1111110101 11110101 1111011010 10100111 111010111 11001101 10101101001 111101 11101101 10111111 101001101001 00101101 110100111 1100111 1111101111 1101101 01110101 1010111001 110011101 1111010 011111111 00101111101 1010111101 011110101 111011101 10100101101 0011111 1010111101 10101101 011111101 10101110 010110101 11010010 0011111101 1011101 1010111101 011010 011101111 0101101 0100101001 111111 1110110101 10110111 0110110101 1111001 010111101 00101101 1011111001 1110111 1010010101 10011101 1011111001 0101011 110111001 11001110 110111101 11010110 11010011 0110111 011011 00111111 111011111 101101010 111111101 0111010 111111111 101110 0011110101 00110110 01110111 11111 1010111101 1110101 10110111 01111110 011111101 11101010 0110110101 010011 110101101 1110101 1110111 11111 11101101 0100111 11011101 11110010 11 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 4,254 |
Words | 783 |
Sentences | 36 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 9, 8, 8, 8, 9, 12, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 3 |
Lines Amount | 113 |
Letters per line (avg) | 30 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 239 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 58 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 4:01 min read
- 109 Views
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"Part I: Visions in the Smoke" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/167/part-i%3A-visions-in-the-smoke>.
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