Analysis of First Sunday After Christmas
John Keble 1792 (Fairford) – 1866 (Bournemouth)
'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
His daily course refused to run,
The pale moon hurrying to the west
Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.
But can it be, one suppliant tear
Should stay the ever-moving sphere?
A sick man's lowly-breathed sigh,
When from the world he turns away,
And hides his weary eyes to pray,
Should change your mystic dance, ye wanderers of the sky?
We too, O Lord, would fain command,
As then, Thy wonder-working hand,
And backward force the waves of Time,
That now so swift and silent bear
Our restless bark from year to year;
Help us to pause and mourn to Thee our tale of crime.
Bright hopes, that erst the bosom warmed,
And vows, too pure to be performed,
And prayers blown wide by gales of care; -
These, and such faint half-waking dreams,
Like stormy lights on mountain streams,
Wavering and broken all, athwart the conscience glare.
How shall we 'scape the o'erwhelming Past?
Can spirits broken, joys o'ercast,
And eyes that never more may smile: -
Can these th' avenging bolt delay,
Or win us back one little day
The bitterness of death to soften and beguile?
Father and Lover of our souls!
Though darkly round Thine anger rolls,
Thy sunshine smiles beneath the gloom,
Thou seek'st to warn us, not confound,
Thy showers would pierce the hardened ground
And win it to give out its brightness and perfume.
Thou smil'st on us in wrath, and we,
E'en in remorse, would smile on Thee,
The tears that bathe our offered hearts,
We would not have them stained and dim,
But dropped from wings of seraphim,
All glowing with the light accepted love imparts.
Time's waters will not ebb, nor stay;
Power cannot change them, but Love may;
What cannot be, Love counts it done.
Deep in the heart, her searching view
Can read where Faith is fixed and true,
Through shades of setting life can see Heaven's work begun.
O Thou, who keep'st the Key of Love,
Open Thy fount, eternal Dove,
And overflow this heart of mine,
Enlarging as it fills with Thee,
Till in one blaze of charity
Care and remorse are lost, like motes in light divine;
Till as each moment wafts us higher,
By every gush of pure desire,
And high-breathed hope of joys above,
By every secret sigh we heave,
Whole years of folly we outlive,
In His unerring sight, who measures Life by Love.
Scheme | AABCCB DEFGGF HHIDEI JJDKKD XBLGGL MMNOON PPQXIQ GGARRA SSTPPT UUSXXS |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Etheree (23%) |
Metre | 111100101 11010111 011100101 1101111 001011111 10101111111 1111111 11010101 0111011 11011101 01110111 1111011100101 11111101 11110101 01010111 11110101 101011111 1111011110111 11110101 01111101 01111111 10111101 11011101 1000101010101 1111011 1101011 01110111 1111010101 11111101 010011110001 100101101 11011101 1110101 111111101 110110101 011111110001 11110101 110011111 011110101 11111101 111111 110101010101 11011111 101011111 11011111 10010101 11111101 1111011110101 111110111 10110101 0101111 01011111 10111100 100111110101 111101110 1100111010 01111101 110010111 1111011 0111110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,433 |
Words | 428 |
Sentences | 14 |
Stanzas | 10 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6 |
Lines Amount | 60 |
Letters per line (avg) | 31 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 184 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 43 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:11 min read
- 63 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"First Sunday After Christmas" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/23569/first-sunday-after-christmas>.
Discuss this John Keble poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In