Analysis of A Pastoral Dialogue - I
Anne Killigrew 1660 (London) – 1685 (London)
Amintor. Stay gentle Nymph, nor so solic'tous be,
To fly his sight that still would gaze on thee.
With other Swaines I see thee oft converse,
Content to speak, and hear what they rehearse:
But I unhappy, when I e're draw nigh,
Thou streight do'st leave both Place, and Company.
If this thy Flight, from fear of Harm doth flow,
Ah, sure thou little of my Heart dost know.
Alinda. What wonder, Swain, if the Pursu'd by Flight,
Seeks to avoid the close Pursuers Sight?
And if no Cause I have to fly from thee,
Then thou hast none, why thou dost follow me.
Amin. If to the Cause thou wilt propitious prove,
Take it at once, fair Nymph, and know 'tis Love.
Alin. To my just Pray'r, ye favouring Gods attend,
These Vows to Heaven with equal Zeal I send,
My flocks from Wolves, my Heart from Love, defend.
Amin. The Gods which did on thee such Charms bestow,
Ne're meant thou shouldst to Love have prov'd a Foe,
That so Divine a Power thou shouldst defy.
Could there a Reason be, I'd ask thee, why?
Alin. Why does Licoris, once so bright and gay,
Pale as a Lilly pine her self away?
Why does Elvira, ever sad, frequent
The lonely shades? Why does yon Monument
Which we upon our Left Hand do behold,
Hapless Amintas youthful Limbs enfold?
Say Shepherd, say: But if thou wilt not tell,
Damon, Philisides, and Strephon well
Can speak the Cause, whose Falshood each upbraids,
And justly me from Cruel Love disswades.
Amin. Hear me ye Gods. Me and my Flocks forsake,
If e're like them my promis'd Faith I brake.
Alin. By others sad Experience wise I'le be,
Amin. But such thy Wisdom highly injures me:
And nought but Death can give a Remedy.
Ye Learn'd in Physick, what does it avail,
That you by Art (wherein ye never fail)
Present Relief have for the Mad-dogs Bite?
The Serpents sting? the poisonous Achonite?
While helpless Love upbraids your baffl'd skill,
And far more certain, than the rest, doth kill.
Alin. Fond Swain, go dote upon the new blown Rose,
Whose Beauty with the Morning did disclose,
And e're Days King forsakes th' enlighted Earth,
Wither'd, returns from whence it took its Birth.
As much Excuse will there thy Love attend,
As what thou dost on Womens Beauty spend.
Amin.
Ah Nymph, those Charms which I in thee admire,
Can, nor before, nor with thy Life expire.
From Heaven they are, and such as ne're can dye,
But with thy Soul they will ascend the Sky!
For though my ravisht Eye beholds in Thee,
Such beauty as I can in none else see;
That Nature there alone is without blame,
Yet did not this my faithful Heart enflame:
Nor when in Dance thou mov'st upon the Plaine,
Or other Sports pursu'st among the Train
Of choicest Nymphs, where thy attractive Grace
Shews thee alone, though thousands be in place!
Yet not for these do I Alinda love,
Hear then what 'tis, that does my Passion move.
That Thou still Earliest at the Temple art,
And still the last that does from thence depart;
Paus Altar is by thee the oftnest prest,
Thine's still the fairest Offering and the Best;
And all thy other Actions seem to be,
The true Result of Unfeign'd Piety;
Strict in thy self, to others Just and Mild;
Careful, nor to Deceive, nor be Beguil'd;
Wary, without the least Offence, to live,
Yet none than thee more ready to forgive!
Even on thy Beauty thou dost Fetters lay,
Least, unawares, it any should betray.
Far unlike, sure, to many of thy Sex,
Whose Pride it is, the doting World to vex;
Spreading their Universal Nets to take
Who e're their artifice can captive make.
But thou command'st thy Sweet, but Modest Eye,
That no Inviting Glance from thence should fly.
Beholding with a Gen'rous Disdain,
The lighter Courtships of each amorous Swain;
Knowing, true Fame, Vertue alone can give:
Nor dost thou greedily even that receive.
And what 'bove this thy Character can raise?
Thirsty of Merit, yet neglecting Praise!
While daily these Perfections I discry,
Matchless Alinda makes me daily dy.
Thou absent, Flow'rs to me no Odours yield,
Nor find I freshness in the dewy Field;
Not Thyrsis Voice, nor Melibeus Lire,
Can my Sad Heart with one Gay Thought inspire;
My thriving Flock ('mong Shepherds Vows the Chief)
I unconcern'd behold, as they my Grief.
This I profess, if this thou not believe,
A further proof I ready am to give,
Command: there's nothing I'le not undertake,
And, thy Injunctions, Love will easie make.
Ah, if thou couldst incline a gentle Ear,
Of plighted Faith, and
Scheme | AABBCADD EEAA FG HHH DDCC IIJJKKLLBB MM A AANNEEOO PPQQHH RSSCCAA TTRUVVGF WWXXAAYYXZII1 1 MMCCUUZ2 3 3 SE4 4 XS5 5 2 ZMM XX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111011111 1111111111 1101111110 1011011101 11010111111 11111110100 1111111111 1111011111 11101100111 1101010101 0111111111 1111111101 011101110101 1111110111 11111111101 11110110111 1111111101 010111111101 11111111101 11010101101 1101011111 111111101 1101010101 1101010110 0101111100 11011011101 10110101 1101111111 101011 11011111 010111011 011111101101 11111110111 1110101001101 011111010101 0111110100 110111101 1111011101 1001110111 010101001 110111101 0111010111 11111010111 1101010101 0111111111 1001111111 1101111101 111111101 01 1111110101 1101111101 110110111111 1111110101 11111101 1101110111 1101011011 111111011 1101110101 110110101 1101110101 1101110101 11111111 1111111101 11110010101 0101111101 110111011 11010100001 0111010111 010111100 1011110101 1011011101 100101111 1111110101 10111011101 101110101 1011110111 1111010111 101010111 11111001101 11011111101 1101011111 01010101 0101111001 101110111 11110010101 0111110011 1011010101 1101111 1111101 110111111 1111000101 1111110 1111111101 1101110101 101011111 1101111101 0101110111 0111010110 010101111 1111010101 1110 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,310 |
Words | 790 |
Sentences | 48 |
Stanzas | 16 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 4, 2, 3, 4, 10, 2, 1, 8, 6, 7, 8, 14, 18, 4, 2 |
Lines Amount | 101 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 212 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 49 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 4:05 min read
- 49 Views
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"A Pastoral Dialogue - I" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/3200/a-pastoral-dialogue---i>.
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