Analysis of San Sebastian

Thomas Hardy 1840 (Stinsford) – 1928 (Dorchester, Dorset)



With Thoughts of Sergeant M---- (Pensioner), who died 185-

"WHY, Sergeant, stray on the Ivel Way,
     As though at home there were spectres rife?
     From first to last 'twas a proud career!
     And your sunny years with a gracious wife
        Have brought you a daughter dear.

"I watched her to-day; a more comely maid,
     As she danced in her muslin bowed with blue,
     Round a Hintock maypole never gayed."
     --"Aye, aye; I watched her this day, too,
        As it happens," the Sergeant said.

"My daughter is now," he again began,
     "Of just such an age as one I knew
     When we of the Line, in the Foot-Guard van,
     On an August morning--a chosen few--
        Stormed San Sebastian.

"She's a score less three; so about was she--
     The maiden I wronged in Peninsular days....
     You may prate of your prowess in lusty times,
     But as years gnaw inward you blink your bays,
        And see too well your crimes!

"We'd stormed it at night, by the vlanker-light
     Of burning towers, and the mortar's boom:
     We'd topped the breach but had failed to stay,
     For our files were misled by the baffling gloom;
        And we said we'd storm by day.

"So, out of the trenches, with features set,
     On that hot, still morning, in measured pace,
     Our column climbed; climbed higher yet,
     Past the fauss'bray, scarp, up the curtain-face,
        And along the parapet.

"From the batteried hornwork the cannoneers
     Hove crashing balls of iron fire;
     On the shaking gap mount the volunteers
     In files, and as they mount expire
        Amid curses, groans, and cheers.

"Five hours did we storm, five hours re-form,
     As Death cooled those hot blood pricked on;
     Till our cause was helped by a woe within;
     They swayed from the summit we'd leapt upon,
        And madly we entered in.

"On end for plunder, 'mid rain and thunder
     That burst with the lull of our cannonade,
     We vamped the streets in the stifling air--
     Our hunger unsoothed, our thirst unstayed--
        And ransacked the buildings there.

"Down the stony steps of the house-fronts white
     We rolled rich puncheons of Spanish grape,
     Till at length, with the fire of the wine alight,
     I saw at a doorway a fair fresh shape--
        A woman, a sylph, or sprite.

"Afeard she fled, and with heated head
     I pursued to the chamber she called her own;
     --When might is right no qualms deter,
     And having her helpless and alone
        I wreaked my lust on her.

"She raised her beseeching eyes to me,
     And I heard the words of prayer she sent
     In her own soft language.... Seemingly
     I copied those eyes for my punishment
        In begetting the girl you see!

"So, to-day I stand with a God-set brand
     Like Cain's, when he wandered from kindred's ken....
     I served through the war that made Europe free;
     I wived me in peace-year. But, hid from men,
        I bear that mark on me.

"And I nightly stray on the Ivel Way
     As though at home there were spectres rife;
     I delight me not in my proud career;
     And 'tis coals of fire that a gracious wife
        Should have brought me a daughter dear!"


Scheme a bCdcd xeaef gegex hijij klblb mnmnm iopxp xqrqr oasas ktktk fuouo hxhxh xvhvh bCdcd
Poetic Form
Metre 11110110011 11011011 11111011 111110101 0110110101 1110101 1101101101 1110010111 1011101 11110111 11100101 1101110101 111111111 1110100111 1110100101 11010 1011110111 01011001001 11111100101 1111101111 011111 111111011 110100011 110111111 1101001101001 0111111 1110101101 1111100101 101011101 1011110101 001010 101101 110111010 101011001 01011101 0110101 11011111011 11111111 11011110101 1110101101 0101100 1111011010 111011101 110100101 101011011 010101 1010110111 11111101 111101010101 111010111 0100111 11101101 10110101101 11111101 010010001 111110 110010111 011011111 001110100 1101111100 00100111 1111110111 111110111 1110111101 1110111111 111111 011011011 11111011 1011101101 01111010101 11110101
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 3,193
Words 530
Sentences 22
Stanzas 15
Stanza Lengths 1, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5
Lines Amount 71
Letters per line (avg) 31
Words per line (avg) 7
Letters per stanza (avg) 146
Words per stanza (avg) 35
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

2:40 min read
80

Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy, was not a Scottish Minister, not a Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland nor a Professor of Eccesiastical History at Edinburgh University. more…

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