Analysis of My November Guest
Robert Frost 1874 (San Francisco) – 1963 (Boston)
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise
Scheme | ABAAB CDCCD EFEEF GHGGH |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Etheree (30%) Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 11011111 11111101 11001111 11010101 11010101 01011111 11011111 11011101 11010101 11011101 01000101 01010101 01011101 11111111 0111101 1101111 01110101 01010101 11011101 01110101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 660 |
Words | 132 |
Sentences | 5 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 5, 5, 5, 5 |
Lines Amount | 20 |
Letters per line (avg) | 26 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 130 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 33 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 26, 2023
- 40 sec read
- 274 Views
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"My November Guest" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/30880/my-november-guest>.
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