Analysis of On Imagination
Phillis Wheatley 1753 (West Africa) – 1784 (Boston)
THY various works, imperial queen, we see,
How bright their forms! how deck'd with pomp
by thee!
Thy wond'rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.
From Helicon's refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.
Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov'd object strikes her wand'ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.
Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul.
Though Winter frowns to Fancy's raptur'd eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o'er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow'ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown'd:
Show'rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.
Such is thy pow'r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o'er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov'reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.
Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th' expanse on high:
From Tithon's bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o'erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy's flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.
Scheme | ABACCDDEFGGHHIIJKHHLMNNGGOOPPQQRRPPSSTTUUVVGGGWWXXYZA1 |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 110010100111 11111111 11 11101101 0101110111 111101 11010010101 1101010101 1101010011 1111010101 1111010111 1101010101 0101000101 001011111 1101010111 1011110101 111101011 111110101 010101001 1111010101 1001010101 1011110101 111101110101 11011111 0111001101 0101111101 01110101001 1101010101 010110101 100101111 0101011111 1101011101 0101010101 11111111101 1101010101 0101011111 01010100111 0111001101 101101101 1101110101 0101010101 101101011 111101110111 111110101 0111010101 101111101 011011101 01010111001 1101010101 1101010101 1001011101 0101101010 110111101 1111100101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,296 |
Words | 402 |
Sentences | 17 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 54 |
Lines Amount | 54 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,832 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 400 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 28, 2023
- 2:06 min read
- 404 Views
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"On Imagination" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/29369/on-imagination>.
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