Analysis of In The Harbour: The Poet's Calendar

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807 (Portland) – 1882 (Cambridge)



Janus am I; oldest of potentates;
Forward I look, and backward, and below
I count, as god of avenues and gates,
The years that through my portals come and go.

I block the roads, and drift the fields with snow;
I chase the wild-fowl from the frozen fen;
My frosts congeal the rivers in their flow,
My fires light up the hearths and hearts of men.

I am lustration, and the sea is mine!
I wash the sands and headlands with my tide;
My brow is crowned with branches of the pine;
Before my chariot-wheels the fishes glide.
By me all things unclean are purified,
By me the souls of men washed white again;
E'en the unlovely tombs of those who died
Without a dirge, I cleanse from every stain.

I Martius am! Once first, and now the third!
To lead the Year was my appointed place;
A mortal dispossessed me by a word,
And set there Janus with the double face.
Hence I make war on all the human race;
I shake the cities with my hurricanes;
I flood the rivers and their banks efface,
And drown the farms and hamlets with my rains.

I open wide the portals of the Spring
To welcome the procession of the flowers,
With their gay banners, and the birds that sing
Their song of songs from their aerial towers.
I soften with my sunshine and my showers
The heart of earth; with thoughts of love I glide
Into the hearts of men; and with the Hours
Upon the Bull with wreathed horns I ride.

Hark! The sea-faring wild-fowl loud proclaim
My coming, and the swarming of the bees.
These are my heralds, and behold! my name
Is written in blossoms on the hawthorn-trees.
I tell the mariner when to sail the seas;
I waft o'er all the land from far away
The breath and bloom of the Hesperides,
My birthplace. I am Maia. I am May.

Mine is the Month of Roses; yes, and mine
The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights
And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,
The foliage of the valleys and the heights.
Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;
The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;
I am the mother of all dear delights;
I am the fairest daughter of the year.

My emblem is the Lion, and I breathe
The breath of Libyan deserts o'er the land;
My sickle as a sabre I unsheathe,
And bent before me the pale harvests stand.
The lakes and rivers shrink at my command,
And there is thirst and fever in the air;
The sky is changed to brass, the earth to sand;
I am the Emperor whose name I bear.

The Emperor Octavian, called the August,
I being his favorite, bestowed his name
Upon me, and I hold it still in trust,
In memory of him and of his fame.
I am the Virgin, and my vestal flame
Burns less intensely than the Lion's rage;
Sheaves are my only garlands, and I claim
The golden Harvests as my heritage.

I bear the Scales, where hang in equipoise
The night and day; and when unto my lips
I put my trumpet, with its stress and noise
Fly the white clouds like tattered sails of ships;
The tree-tops lash the air with sounding whips;
Southward the clamorous sea-fowl wing their flight;
The hedges are all red with haws and hips,
The Hunter's Moon reigns empress of the night.

My ornaments are fruits; my garments leaves,
Woven like cloth of gold, and crimson dyed;
I do not boast the harvesting of sheaves,
O'er orchards and o'er vineyards I preside.
Though on the frigid Scorpion I ride,
The dreamy air is full, and overflows
With tender memories of the summer-tide,
And mingled voices of the doves and crows.

The Centaur, Sagittarius, am I,
Born of Ixion's and the cloud's embrace;
With sounding hoofs across the earth I fly,
A steed Thessalian with a human face.
Sharp winds the arrows are with which I chase
The leaves, half dead already with affright;
I shroud myself in gloom; and to the race
Of mortals bring nor comfort nor delight.

Riding upon the Goat, with snow-white hair,
I come, the last of all. This crown of mine
Is of the holly; in my hand I bear
The thyrsus, tipped with fragrant cones of pine.
I celebrate the birth of the Divine,
And the return of the Saturnian reign;--
My songs are carols sung at every shrine.
Proclaiming 'Peace on earth, good will to men.'


Scheme ABAB BCBC DEDEECEF GHGHHIHI JKJKKEKE LMLMMNAN DODOOXOX PQPQQRQR SLSLLXLX ATXTTUTU VEVEEWEW XHXHHEHU RDRDDFDC
Poetic Form
Metre 101110110 1011010001 111111001 0111110101 1101010111 1101110101 1101010011 11011010111 11100111 110101111 1111110101 01110010101 111101110 1101111101 110111111 01011111001 111110101 1101110101 010011101 0111010101 1111110101 110101110 1101001101 0101010111 1101010101 11000101010 1111000111 11111110010 1101110110 0111111111 01011101010 010111111 1011011101 1100010101 1111000111 1100101011 11010011101 11101011101 0101101 111110111 1101110101 0111001101 01010101001 0101010001 110101011 011110111 1101011101 1101010101 1101010011 011100101001 110101011 0101101101 0101011101 0111010001 0111110111 1101001111 010011010 11011000111 0110111101 0100110111 1101001101 1101010101 111101011 0101011100 11011101 0101011011 1111011101 1011110111 0111011101 100111111 0101111101 0101110101 1100111101 1011110101 1111010011 101001010101 1101010011 010111010 11010010101 0101010101 01111 11100101 1101010111 01110101 1101011111 011101011 111010101 1101110101 1001011111 1101111111 1101001111 011110111 110011001 00011011 11110111001 0101111111
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,072
Words 777
Sentences 35
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8
Lines Amount 96
Letters per line (avg) 33
Words per line (avg) 8
Letters per stanza (avg) 243
Words per stanza (avg) 59
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

3:56 min read
94

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an American poet and educator whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. more…

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