Analysis of Ode to Melancholy
Mary Darby Robinson 1757 (England) – 1800 (England)
SORC'RESS of the Cave profound!
Hence, with thy pale, and meagre train,
Nor dare my roseate bow'r profane,
Where light-heel'd mirth despotic reigns,
Slightly bound in feath'ry chains,
And scatt'ring blisses round.
Hence, to thy native Chaoswhere
Nurs'd by thy haggard Dam, DESPAIR,
Shackled by thy numbing spell,
Mis'ry's pallid children dwell;
Where, brooding o'er thy fatal charms,
FRENZY rolls the vacant eye;
Where hopeless LOVE, with folded arms,
Drops the tear, and heaves the sigh;
Till cherish'd Passion's tyrant sway
Chills the warm pulse of Youth, with premature decay.
O, fly Thee, to some Church-yard's gloom,
Where beside the mould'ring tomb,
Restless Spectres glide away,
Fading in the glimpse of Day;
Or, where the Virgin ORB of Night,
Silvers o'er the Forest wide,
Or across the silent tide,
Flings her soft, and quiv'ring light:
Where, beneath some aged Tree,
Sounds of mournful Melody
Caught from the NIGHTINGALE's enamour'd Tale,
Steal on faint Echo's ear, and float upon the gale.
DREAD POW'R! whose touch magnetic leads
O'er enchanted spangled meads,
Where by the glow-worm's twinkling ray,
Aëry Spirits lightly play;
Where around some Haunted Tow'r,
Boding Ravens wing their flight,
Viewless, in the gloom of Night,
Warning oft the luckless hour;
Or, beside the Murd'rer's bed,
From thy dark, and morbid wing,
O'er his fev'rish, burning head,
Drops of conscious auguish fling;
While freezing HORROR's direful scream,
Rouses his guilty soul from kind oblivion's dream.
Oft, beneath the witching Yew,
The trembling MAID, steals forth unseen;
With true-love wreaths, of deathless green,
Her Lover's grave to strew;
Her downcast Eye, no joy illumes,
Nor on her Cheek, the soft Rose blooms;
Her mourning Heart, the victim of thy pow'r,
Shrinks from the glare of Mirth, and hails the MURKY HOUR.
O, say what FIEND first gave thee birth,
In what fell Desart, wert thou born;
Why does thy hollow voice, forlorn,
So fascinate the Sons of Earth;
That once encircled in thy icy arms,
They court thy torpid touch, and doat upon thy Charms?
HATED IMP,I brave thy Spell,
REASON shuns thy barb'rous sway;
Life, with mirth should glide away,
Despondency, with guilt should dwell;
For conscious TRUTH's unruffled mien,
Displays the dauntless Eye, and patient smile serene.
Scheme | ABBCCA DDEEFGFGHH IIHHJKKJLLMM NNHHOJJPQRQRSS TUUTCXOP VWWVFF EHHEUU |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 110101 1111011 1111001101 11110101 101011 0111 11110101 11110101 1011101 110101 110101101 1010101 11011101 1010101 1101101 10111110101 11111111 1010111 101101 1000111 11010111 10100101 1010101 101011 101111 1110100 110111 111101010101 111110101 10010101 110111001 0110101 10111011 110111 100111 10101010 101011 1110101 1011101 111011 110111 111011111 1010101 010011101 1111111 010111 011111 11010111 01010101111 1101110101010 11111111 0111111 11110101 1100111 1101001101 111101010111 1011111 101111 1111101 01001111 11010101 01011010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,288 |
Words | 371 |
Sentences | 10 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 10, 12, 14, 8, 6, 6 |
Lines Amount | 62 |
Letters per line (avg) | 29 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 254 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 53 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 09, 2023
- 2:01 min read
- 66 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Ode to Melancholy" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/26753/ode-to-melancholy>.
Discuss this Mary Darby Robinson 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