Analysis of Contemplations

Anne Bradstreet 1612 (Northampton) – 1672 (Andover)



1     Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide,
2     When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed,
3     The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,
4     Were gilded o're by his rich golden head.
5     Their leaves and fruits seem'd painted but was true
6     Of green, of red, of yellow, mixed hew,
7     Rapt were my senses at this delectable view.

8     I wist not what to wish, yet sure thought I,
9     If so much excellence abide below,
10   How excellent is he that dwells on high?
11   Whose power and beauty by his works we know.
12   Sure he is goodness, wisdom, glory, light,
13   That hath this under world so richly dight.
14   More Heaven than Earth was here, no winter and no night.

15   Then on a stately Oak I cast mine Eye,
16   Whose ruffling top the Clouds seem'd to aspire.
17   How long since thou wast in thine Infancy?
18   Thy strength and stature, more thy years admire,
19   Hath hundred winters past since thou wast born?
20   Or thousand since thou brakest thy shell of horn?
21   If so, all these as nought, Eternity doth scorn.

22   Then higher on the glistering Sun I gaz'd,
23   Whose beams was shaded by the leafy Tree.
24   The more I look'd, the more I grew amaz'd
25   And softly said, what glory's like to thee?
26   Soul of this world, this Universe's Eye,
27   No wonder some made thee a Deity.
28   Had I not better known (alas) the same had I.

29   Thou as a Bridegroom from thy Chamber rushes
30   And as a strong man joys to run a race.
31   The morn doth usher thee with smiles and blushes.
32   The Earth reflects her glances in thy face.
33   Birds, insects, Animals with Vegative,
34   Thy heat from death and dullness doth revive
35   And in the darksome womb of fruitful nature dive.

36   Thy swift Annual and diurnal Course,
37   Thy daily straight and yearly oblique path,
38   Thy pleasing fervour, and thy scorching force,
39   All mortals here the feeling knowledge hath.
40   Thy presence makes it day, thy absence night,
41   Quaternal seasons caused by thy might.
42   Hail Creature, full of sweetness, beauty, and delight!

43   Art thou so full of glory that no Eye
44   Hath strength thy shining Rays once to behold?
45   And is thy splendid Throne erect so high
46   As, to approach it, can no earthly mould?
47   How full of glory then must thy Creator be!
48   Who gave this bright light luster unto thee.
49   Admir'd, ador'd for ever be that Majesty!

50   Silent alone where none or saw or heard,
51   In pathless paths I lead my wand'ring feet.
52   My humble Eyes to lofty Skies I rear'd
53   To sing some Song my mazed Muse thought meet.
54   My great Creator I would magnify
55   That nature had thus decked liberally,
56   But Ah and Ah again, my imbecility!

57   I heard the merry grasshopper then sing,
58   The black clad Cricket bear a second part.
59   They kept one tune and played on the same string,
60   Seeming to glory in their little Art.
61   Shall creatures abject thus their voices raise
62   And in their kind resound their maker's praise
63   Whilst I, as mute, can warble forth no higher lays?

64   When present times look back to Ages past
65   And men in being fancy those are dead,
66   It makes things gone perpetually to last
67   And calls back months and years that long since fled.
68   It makes a man more aged in conceit
69   Than was Methuselah or's grand-sire great,
70   While of their persons and their acts his mind doth treat.

71   Sometimes in Eden fair he seems to be,
72   See glorious Adam there made Lord of all,
73   Fancies the Apple dangle on the Tree
74   That turn'd his Sovereign to a naked thrall,
75   Who like a miscreant's driven from that place
76   To get his bread with pain and sweat of face.
77   A penalty impos'd on his backsliding Race.

78   Here sits our Grand-dame in retired place
79   And in her lap her bloody Cain new born.
80   The weeping Imp oft looks her in the face,
81   Bewails his unknown hap and fate forlorn.
82   His Mother sighs to think of Paradise
83   And how she lost her bliss to be more wise,
84   Believing him that was and is Father of lies.

85   Here Cain and Abel come to sacrifice,
86   Fruits of the Earth and Fatlings each do bring.
87   On Abel's gift the fire descends from Skies,
88   But no such sign on false Cain's offering.
89   With sullen


Scheme ABABCCC DEDEFAF DGHGIII JHJHDHD KLKLMMM NONOFFF DPDPHHH XQXQDHA RSRSTTT UBUBQXQ HVHVLLL LILIWXX WRXRX
Poetic Form
Metre 111000101 1111110111011 0111011111 01011111101 1101110111 111111011 101101101001 1111111111 1111000101 1100111111 11001011111 1111010101 1111011101 1101111110011 1101011111 11001011101 1111101100 1101011101 1101011111 1101111111 111111010011 110101111 1111010101 0111011101 010111111 1111111 1101110100 111101010111 1101111010 0101111101 01110111010 0101010011 1110011 1111010101 00011110101 1110000101 1101010011 110101101 1101010101 1101111101 1101111 110111010001 1111110111 1111011101 0111010111 1101111101 111101110101 1111110101 0100111011100 1001111111 011111111 1101110111 111111111 110101110 1101111000 11010111 110101011 0111010101 1111011011 1011001101 1101011101 001111101 111111011101 1101111101 0101010111 11110100011 0111011111 110111001 11010011101 111100111111 0101011111 11001011111 1001010101 1111010101 110110111 1111110111 01000111101 1110110011 0001010111 0101110001 110110101 110111110 0111011111 010111011011 110101110 110101111 1110100111 1111111100 110
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,256
Words 811
Sentences 43
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 5
Lines Amount 89
Letters per line (avg) 36
Words per line (avg) 11
Letters per stanza (avg) 245
Words per stanza (avg) 77
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 15, 2023

4:09 min read
297

Anne Bradstreet

Anne Bradstreet was the first poet and first female writer in the British North American colonies to be published. more…

All Anne Bradstreet poems | Anne Bradstreet Books

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