Analysis of The Garden Of Boccaccio
Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1772 (Ottery St Mary) – 1834 (Highgate)
[exerpt]
Of late, in one of those most weary hours,
When life seems emptied of all genial powers,
A dready mood, which he who ne'er has known
May bless his happy lot, I sate alone ;
And, from the numbing spell to win relief,
Call'd on the Past for thought of glee or grief.
In vain ! bereft alike of grief and glee,
I sate and cow'r'd o'er my own vacancy !
And as I watch'd the dull continuous ache,
Which, all else slumb'ring, seem'd alone to wake ;
O Friend ! long wont to notice yet conceal,
And soothe by silence what words cannot heal,
I but half saw that quiet hand of thine
Place on my desk this exquisite design.
Boccaccio's Garden and its faery,
The love, the joyaunce, and the gallantry !
An Idyll, with Boccaccio's spirit warm,
Framed in the silent poesy of form.
Like flocks adown a newly-bathéd steep
Emerging from a mist : or like a stream
Of music soft that not dispels the sleep,
But casts in happier moulds the slumberer's dream,
Gazed by an idle eye with silent might
The picture stole upon my inward sight.
A tremulous warmth crept gradual o'er my chest,
As though an infant's finger touch'd my breast.
And one by one (I know not whence) were brought
All spirits of power that most had stirr'd my thought
In selfless boyhood, on a new world tost
Of wonder, and in its own fancies lost ;
Or charm'd my youth, that, kindled from above,
Loved ere it loved, and sought a form for love ;
Or lent a lustre to the earnest scan
Of manhood, musing what and whence is man !
...
And many a verse which to myself I sang,
That woke the tear, yet stole away the pang,
Of hopes, which in lamenting I renew'd :
...
Thanks, gentle artist ! now I can descry
Thy fair creation with a mastering eye,
And all awake ! And now in fix'd gaze stand,
Now wander through the Eden of thy hand ;
...
I see no longer ! I myself am there,
Sit on the ground-sward, and the banquet share.
'Tis I, that sweep that lute's love-echoing strings,
And gaze upon the maid who gazing sings :
Or pause and listen to the tinkling bells
From the high tower, and think that there she dwells.
With old Boccaccio's soul I stand possest,
And breathe an air like life, that swells my chest.
...
Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks,
...
With that sly satyr peeping through the leaves !
Scheme | ABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIEJJ KLKLAAAAAAAAMMNN OOA IXAA IIPPQQAA X X |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1 11011111010 11110111010 011111111 1111011101 0101011101 1101111111 0101011101 110111011100 01110101001 111110111 1111110101 0111011101 1111110111 1111110001 110011 010100100 11011101 10010111 111010111 0101011101 1101110101 1101001011 1111011101 0101011101 0100111001011 1111010111 0111111101 110110111111 010110111 1100011101 1111110101 1111010111 1101010101 111010111 1 0100111111 1101110101 1110010101 1 110101111 11010101001 0101010111 1101010111 1 111101111 1101100101 11111111001 0101011101 11010101001 10110011111 1111111 0111111111 1 1011011111 1 111110101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,227 |
Words | 415 |
Sentences | 23 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 19, 21, 14, 3 |
Lines Amount | 57 |
Letters per line (avg) | 30 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 430 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 109 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:10 min read
- 117 Views
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"The Garden Of Boccaccio" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/34346/the-garden-of-boccaccio>.
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