Analysis of Ghasta Or, The Avenging Demon!!!

Percy Bysshe Shelley 1792 (Horsham) – 1822 (Lerici)



Hark! the owlet flaps her wing,
In the pathless dell beneath,
Hark! night ravens loudly sing,
Tidings of despair and death.--

Horror covers all the sky,
Clouds of darkness blot the moon,
Prepare! for mortal thou must die,
Prepare to yield thy soul up soon--

Fierce the tempest raves around,
Fierce the volleyed lightnings fly,
Crashing thunder shakes the ground,
Fire and tumult fill the sky.—

Hark! the tolling village bell,
Tells the hour of midnight come,
Now can blast the powers of Hell,
Fiend-like goblins now can roam--

See! his crest all stained with rain,
A warrior hastening speeds his way,
He starts, looks round him, starts again,
And sighs for the approach of day.

See! his frantic steed he reins,
See! he lifts his hands on high,
Implores a respite to his pains,
From the powers of the sky.--

He seeks an Inn, for faint from toil,
Fatigue had bent his lofty form,
To rest his wearied limbs awhile,
Fatigued with wandering and the storm.

...
...

Slow the door is opened wide--
With trackless tread a stranger came,
His form Majestic, slow his stride,
He sate, nor spake,--nor told his name--

Terror blanched the warrior's cheek,
Cold sweat from his forehead ran,
In vain his tongue essayed to speak,--
At last the stranger thus began:

'Mortal! thou that saw'st the sprite,
Tell me what I wish to know,
Or come with me before 'tis light,
Where cypress trees and mandrakes grow.

'Fierce the avenging Demon's ire,
Fiercer than the wintry blast,
Fiercer than the lightning's fire,
When the hour of twilight's past'--

The warrior raised his sunken eye.
It met the stranger's sullen scowl,
'Mortal! Mortal! thou must die,'
In burning letters chilled his soul.

WARRIOR:
Stranger! whoso'er you are,
I feel impelled my tale to tell--
Horrors stranger shalt thou hear,
Horrors drear as those of Hell.

O'er my Castle silence reigned,
Late the night and drear the hour,
When on the terrace I observed,
A fleeting shadowy mist to lower.--

Light the cloud as summer fog,
Which transient shuns the morning beam;
Fleeting as the cloud on bog,
That hangs or on the mountain stream.--

Horror seized my shuddering brain,
Horror dimmed my starting eye.
In vain I tried to speak,--In vain
My limbs essayed the spot to fly--

At last the thin and shadowy form,
With noiseless, trackless footsteps came,--
Its light robe floated on the storm,
Its head was bound with lambent flame.

In chilling voice drear as the breeze
Which sweeps along th' autumnal ground,
Which wanders through the leafless trees,
Or the mandrake's groan which floats around.

'Thou art mine and I am thine,
'Till the sinking of the world,
I am thine and thou art mine,
'Till in ruin death is hurled--

'Strong the power and dire the fate,
Which drags me from the depths of Hell,
Breaks the tomb's eternal gate,
Where fiendish shapes and dead men yell,

'Haply I might ne'er have shrank
From flames that rack the guilty dead,
Haply I might ne'er have sank
On pleasure's flowery, thorny bed--

--'But stay! no more I dare disclose,
Of the tale I wish to tell,
On Earth relentless were my woes,
But fiercer are my pangs in Hell--

'Now I claim thee as my love,
Lay aside all chilling fear,
My affection will I prove,
Where sheeted ghosts and spectres are!

'For thou art mine, and I am thine,
'Till the dreaded judgement day,
I am thine, and thou art mine--
Night is past--I must away.'

Still I gazed, and still the form
Pressed upon my aching sight,
Still I braved the howling storm,
When the ghost dissolved in night.--

Restless, sleepless fled the night,
Sleepless as a sick man’s bed,
When he sighs for morning light,
When he turns his aching head,--

Slow and painful passed the day.
Melancholy seized my brain,
Lingering fled the hours away,
Lingering to a wretch in pain.--

At last came night, ah! horrid hour,
Ah! chilling time that wakes the dead,
When demons ride the clouds that lower,
--The phantom sat upon my bed.

In hollow voice, low as the sound
Which in some charnel makes its moan,
What floats along the burying ground,
The phantom claimed me as her own.

Her chilling finger on my head,
With coldest touch congealed my soul--
Cold as the finger of the dead,
Or damps which round a tombstone roll--

Months are passed in li


Scheme axax bcbc dbdb exex fgxg hbhb xixi jkjk lmlm nono xpqp bxbr qsexe xqxq tutu fbfb ikik vdvd wxWx yeye z1 z1 2 e2 e xxxS wgwg inin n1 n1 gfgf q1 q1 d3 d3 1 r1 r x
Poetic Form
Metre 101101 001101 1110101 1010101 1010101 1110101 01110111 01111111 1010101 101101 1010101 10010101 1010101 1010111 11101011 1110111 1111111 0100100111 11111101 01100111 1110111 1111111 01010111 1010101 11111111 01111101 11110101 011100001 1 1 1011101 1110101 11010111 11111111 101011 1111101 0111111 11010101 10111101 1111111 11110111 1101011 1001011 1010101 1010110 1010111 010011101 11010101 1010111 01010111 100 10111 11011111 1010111 1011111 10110101 10101010 11010101 0101001110 1011101 11010101 1010111 11110101 10111001 1011101 01111101 1110111 110101001 11111 11110101 1111111 01011101 1101110101 11010101 10111101 1110111 1010101 1110111 1010111 10100101 11110111 1010101 11010111 111111 11110101 111111 11100101 11111101 1011111 11010011 11011101 1111111 1011101 1010111 111011 11110111 1010101 1110111 1111101 1110101 1011101 1110101 1010101 1010101 1010111 1111101 1111101 1010101 100111 100101001 10010101 111111010 11011101 110101110 01010111 01011101 1011111 110101001 01011101 01010111 11010111 11010101 1111011 11101
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 4,080
Words 753
Sentences 38
Stanzas 32
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 1
Lines Amount 124
Letters per line (avg) 26
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 101
Words per stanza (avg) 23
Font size:
 

Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

3:50 min read
96

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Percy Bysshe Shelley was one of the major English Romantic poets and is regarded by critics as among the finest lyric poets in the English language. more…

All Percy Bysshe Shelley poems | Percy Bysshe Shelley Books

8 fans

Discuss this Percy Bysshe Shelley poem analysis with the community:

0 Comments

    Citation

    Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:

    Style:MLAChicagoAPA

    "Ghasta Or, The Avenging Demon!!!" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/29119/ghasta-or%2C-the-avenging-demon%21%21%21>.

    Become a member!

    Join our community of poets and poetry lovers to share your work and offer feedback and encouragement to writers all over the world!

    April 2024

    Poetry Contest

    Join our monthly contest for an opportunity to win cash prizes and attain global acclaim for your talent.
    0
    days
    8
    hours
    22
    minutes

    Special Program

    Earn Rewards!

    Unlock exciting rewards such as a free mug and free contest pass by commenting on fellow members' poems today!

    Browse Poetry.com

    Quiz

    Are you a poetry master?

    »
    Which female American poet, who was little-known during her lifetime, but had nearly 1800 of her poems published posthumously, rarely titled her poems?
    A Sylvia Plath
    B Emily Dickinson
    C Sara Teasdale
    D Amy Lowell