Analysis of Recollections of a Dreamland
James Clerk Maxwell 1831 (Edinburgh, Scotland) – 1879 (Cambridge, England)
Rouse ye! torpid daylight-dreamers, cast your carking cares away!
As calm air to troubled water, so my night is to your day;
All the dreary day you labour, groping after common sense,
And your eyes ye will not open on the night's magnificence.
Ye would scow were I to tell you how a guiding radiance gleams
On the outer world of action from my inner world of dreams.
When, with mind released from study, late I lay note down to sleep,
From the midst of facts and figures, into boundless space I leap;
For the inner world grows wider as the outer disappears,
And the soul, retiring inward, finds itself beyond the spheres.
Then, to this unbroken sameness, some fantastic dream succeeds,
Vague emotions rise and ripen into thoughts and words and deeds.
Old impressions, long forgotten, range themselves in Time and Space,
Till I recollect the features of some once familiar place.
Then from valley into valley in my dreaming course I roam,
Till the wanderings of my fancy end, where they began, at home.
Calm it lies in morning twilight, while each streamlet far and wide
Still retains its hazy mantle, borrowed from the mountain's side;
Every knoll is now an island every wooded bank a shore,
To the lake of quiet vapour that has spread the valley o’er.
Sheep are couched on every hillock, waiting till the morning dawns,
Hares are on their early rambles, limping o’er the dewy lawns.
All within the house is silent, darkened all the chambers seem,
As with noiseless step I enter, gliding onwards in my dream.
What! has Time run out his cycle, do the years return again?
Are there treasure-caves in Dreamland where departed days remain?
I have leapt the bars of distance—left the life that late I led—
I remember years and labours as a tale that I have read;
Yet my heart is hot within me, for I feel the gentle power
Of the spirits that still love me, waiting for this sacred hour.
Yes,—I know the forms that meet me are but phantoms of the brain,
For they walk in mortal bodies, and they have not ceased from pain.
Oh! those signs of human weakness, left behind for ever now,
Dearer far to me than glories round a fancied seraph's brow.
Oh! the old familiar voices ! Oh! the patient waiting eyes!
Let me live with them in dreamland, while the world in slumber lies!
For by bonds of sacred honour will they guard my soul in sleep
From the spells of aimless fancies, that around my senses creep.
They will link the past and present into one continuous life,
While I feel their hope, their patience, nerve me for the daily strife.
For it is not all a fancy that our lives and theirs are one,
And we know that all we see is but an endless work begun.
Part is left in Nature's keeping, part is entered into rest,
Part remains to grow and ripen, hidden in some living breast.
What is ours we know not, either when we wake or when we sleep,
But we know that Love and Honour, day and night, are ours to keep.
What though Dreams be wandering fancies, by some lawless force entwined,
Empty bubbles, floating upwards through the current of the mind?
There are powers and thoughts within us, that we know not, till they rise
Through the stream of conscious action from where Self in secret lies.
But when Will and Sense are silent, by the thoughts that come and go,
We may trace the rocks and eddies in the hidden depths below.
Let me dream my dream till morning; let my mind run slow and clear,
Free from all the world's distraction, feeling that the Dead are near,
Let me wake, and see my duty lie before me straight and plain.
Let me rise refreshed, and ready to begin my work again.
Scheme | AABBCC DDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLL MNOOPPNNQQRRDDSSTTUUDDVVRRWW XXNM |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1110110111101 111110101111111 10101111010101 011111101011 1110111110101001 101011101110111 111011101111111 101110100110111 10101110101001 001010101010101 111010101010101 101010100110101 101010101010101 11010101110101 111001100110111 1010011101110111 1110101111101 10111010110101 10011111010010101 10111011110101 1111100101010101 11111011010101 101011101010101 11111101010011 111111101010101 11101011010101 111011101011111 10101011011111 1111101111101010 1010111110111010 111011111110101 111010100111111 111110101011101 10111110101011 101010101010101 11111011010101 11111011111101 101110101011101 1110101001101001 111111101110101 1111101011010111 011111111110101 111010101110011 101110101001101 1110111101111111 111110110111011 1111100101110101 101010101010101 1110010111111111 101110101110101 111011101011101 111010100010101 111111101111101 111010101010111 111011101011101 111010101011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic octameter |
Characters | 3,538 |
Words | 658 |
Sentences | 34 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 18, 28, 4 |
Lines Amount | 56 |
Letters per line (avg) | 50 |
Words per line (avg) | 12 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 702 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 164 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:19 min read
- 114 Views
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"Recollections of a Dreamland" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/20066/recollections-of-a-dreamland>.
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