Analysis of Ghost Glen
Henry Kendall 1839 (Australia) – 1882 (Sydney)
'Shut your ears, stranger, or turn from Ghost Glen now,
For the paths are grown over, untrodden by men now;
Shut your ears, stranger,' saith the grey mother, crooning
Her sorcery runic, when sets the half-moon in.
To-night the north-easter goes travelling slowly,
But it never stoops down to that hollow unholy;
To-night it rolls loud on the ridges red-litten,
But it cannot abide in that forest, sin-smitten.
For over the pitfall the moon-dew is thawing,
And, with never a body, two shadows stand sawing -
The wraiths of two sawyers (~step under and under~),
Who did a foul murder and were blackened with thunder!
Whenever the storm-wind comes driven and driving,
Through the blood-spattered timber you may see the saw striving -
You may see the saw heaving, and falling, and heaving,
Whenever the sea-creek is chafing and grieving!
And across a burnt body, as black as an adder,
Sits the sprite of a sheep-dog (was ever sight sadder?)
For, as the dry thunder splits louder and faster,
This sprite of a sheep-dog howls for his master.
'Oh, count your beads deftly,' saith the grey mother, crooning
Her sorcery runic, when sets the half-moon in.
And well may she mutter, for the dark, hollow laughter
You will hear in the sawpits and the bloody logs after.
Ay, count your beads deftly, and keep your ways wary,
For the sake of the Saviour and sweet Mother Mary.
Pray for your peace in these perilous places,
And pray for the laying of horrible faces.
One starts, with a forehead wrinkled and livid,
Aghast at the lightnings sudden and vivid;
One telleth, with curses, the gold that they drew there
(Ah! cross your breast humbly) from him whom they slew there:
The stranger, who came from the loved, the romantic
Island that sleeps on the moaning Atlantic,
Leaving behind him a patient home, yearning
For the steps in the distance - never returning;
Who was left in the forest, shrunken and starkly,
Burnt by his slayers (so men have said, darkly),
With the half-crazy sheep-dog, who cowered beside there,
And yelled at the silence, and marvelled, and died there.
Yea, cross your breast humbly and hold your breath tightly,
Or fly for your life from those shadows unsightly,
From the set staring features (cold, and so young, too),
And the death on the lips that a mother hath clung to.
I tell you - that bushman is braver than most men
Who even in daylight doth go through the Ghost Glen,
Although in that hollow, unholy and lonely,
He sees the dank sawpits and bloody logs only.
Scheme | aabC ddee bbff bbbb ffff bCff ddgg xxhh iibb ddhh ddjj kkdd |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain (75%) |
Metre | 11110111111 10111101111 111101011010 01001110110 110110110010 1110111110010 111111010110 1110010110110 11001011110 011001011110 011110110010 1101100010110 010011110010 10110101110110 1110110010010 010011110010 0010110111110 1011011110110 110110110010 11101111110 1111101011010 01001110110 0111101011010 1110010010110 111110011110 101101011010 11110110010 011010110010 11101010010 01101010010 11110011111 111110111111 010111010010 10111010010 10011010110 101001010010 111001010010 1111111110 101101111011 01101001011 111110011110 11111111010 101101010111 0011011010111 111110110111 11001111011 10110010010 11011010110 |
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 2,487 |
Words | 440 |
Sentences | 15 |
Stanzas | 12 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 48 |
Letters per line (avg) | 40 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 161 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 36 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:11 min read
- 131 Views
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"Ghost Glen" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/17495/ghost-glen>.
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