Analysis of Nature and Art For an Album



'Man goeth forth' with reckless trust
Upon his wealth of mind,
As if in self a thing of dust
Creative skill might find;
He schemes and toils; stone, wood and ore
Subject or weapon of His power.

By arch and spire, by tower-girt heights,
He would his boast fulfil;
By marble births, and mimic lights,—
Yet lacks one secret still;
Where is the master-hand shall give
To breathe, to move, to speak, to live?

O take away this shade of might,
The puny toil of man,
And let great Nature in my sight
Unroll her gorgeous plan;
I cannot bear those sullen walls,
Those eyeless towers, those tongueless halls.

Art's labour'd toys of highest name
Are nerveless, cold, and dumb;
And man is fitted but to frame
A coffin or a tomb;
Well suits, when sense is pass'd away,
Such lifeless works the lifeless clay.

Here let me sit where wooded hills
Skirt yon far-reaching plain;
While cattle bank its winding rills,
And suns embrown its grain;
Such prospect is to me right dear,
For freedom, health, and joy are here.

There is a spirit ranging through
The earth, the stream, the air;
Ten thousand shapes, garbs ever new,
That busy One doth wear;
In colour, scent, and taste, and sound
The energy of Life is found.

The leaves are rustling in the breeze,
The bird renews her song;
From field to brook, o'er heath, o'er trees,
The sunbeam glides along;
The insect, happy in its hour,
Floats softly by, or sips the flower.

Now dewy rain descends, and now
Brisk showers the welkin shroud;
I care not, though with angry brow
Frowns the red thunder-cloud;
Let hail-storm pelt, and lightning harm,
'Tis Nature's work, and has its charm.

Ah! lovely Nature! others dwell
Full favour'd in thy court;
I of thy smiles but hear them tell,
And feed on their report,
Catching what glimpse an Ulcombe yields
To strangers loitering in her fields.

I go where form has ne'er unbent
The sameness of its sway;
Where iron rule, stern precedent,
Mistreat the graceful day;
To pine as prisoner in his cell,
And yet be thought to love it well.

Yet so His high dispose has set,
Who binds on each his part;
Though absent, I may cherish yet
An Ulcombe of the heart;
Calm verdant hope divinely given,
And suns of peace, and scenes of heaven;—

A soul prepared His will to meet,
Full fix'd His work to do;
Not laboured into sudden heat,
But inly born anew.—
So living Nature, not dull Art,
Shall plan my ways and rule my heart.


Scheme ABABXC DEDEXX FGFGHH IXIXJE XKDKXX LMLMNN OPOPCC QRQRSS ETETUU AJXJEE VWVWXX YLYLWW
Poetic Form
Metre 1111101 011111 11010111 010111 11011101 011101110 110111011 11111 11010101 111101 11010111 11111111 11011111 010111 01110011 10101 11011101 11010111 1111101 11101 01110111 010101 11111101 11010101 11111101 111101 11011101 01111 11011111 11010111 11010101 010101 11011101 110111 0110101 01001111 01110001 010101 1111101101 01101 01100110 110111010 11010101 110011 11111101 101101 11110101 11010111 11010101 11011 11111111 011101 1011111 110100001 1111111 010111 11011100 010101 111100011 01111111 11110111 111111 11011101 11101 110101010 011101110 01011111 111111 1101101 11101 11010111 11110111
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,389
Words 438
Sentences 15
Stanzas 12
Stanza Lengths 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6
Lines Amount 72
Letters per line (avg) 25
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 153
Words per stanza (avg) 36
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 28, 2023

2:14 min read
74

John Henry Newman

Blessed John Henry Newman CO, also referred to as Cardinal Newman, was an important figure in the religious history of England in the 19th century. more…

All John Henry Newman poems | John Henry Newman Books

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