Analysis of Sassoor, in the Deccan
Letitia Elizabeth Landon 1802 (Chelsea) – 1838 (Cape Coast)
THE plate represents a temple to Mahadeo, surrounded by inferior shrines. The Hindoos usually place some religious building at the confluence of two streams : and when the accompanying view was taken, there were some cultivated gardens, and groves of beautiful trees. Still, I believe, few Indian residents but will admit the truth of the feeling which the following lines endeavour to express.
It is Christmas, and the sunshine
Lies golden on the fields,
And flowers of white and purple,
Yonder fragment creeper yields.
Like the plumes of some bold warrior,
The cocoa tree on high,
Lifts aloft its feathery branches,
Amid the deep blue sky.
From yonder shadowy peepul,
The pale fair lilac dove,
Like music from a temple,
Sings a song of grief and love.
The earth is bright with blossoms,
And a thousand jewelled wings,
’Mid the green boughs of the tamarind
A sudden sunshine flings.
For the East is earth’s first-born,
And hath a glorious dower
As Nature there had lavished
Her beauty and her power.
And yet I pine for England,
For my own—my distant home ;
My heart is in that island,
Where’er my steps may roam.
It is merry there at Christmas—
We have no Christmas here ;
’Tis a weary thing, a summer
That lasts throughout the year.
I remember how the banners
Hung round our ancient hall,
Bound with wreaths of shining holly,
Brave winter’s coronal.
And above each rusty helmet
Waved a new and cheering plume,
A branch of crimson berries,
And the latest rose in bloom.
And the white and pearly misletoe
Hung half conceal'd o’er head,
I remember one sweet maiden,
Whose cheek it dyed with red.
The morning waked with carols,*
A young and joyous hand
Of small and rosy songsters,
Came tripping hand in hand.
And sang beneath our windows,
Just as the round red sun
Began to melt the hoar-frost,
And the clear cold day begun.
And at night the aged harper
Played his old tunes o’er and o’er ;
From sixteen up to sixty,
All were dancing on that floor.
Those were the days of childhood,
The buoyant and the bright ;
When hope was life’s sweet sovereign,
And the heart and step were light.
I shall come again—a stranger
To all that once I knew,
For the hurried steps of manhood
From life’s flowers have dash’d the dew.
I yet may ask their welcome,
And return from whence I came ;
But a change is wrought within me,
They will not seem the same.
For my spirits are grown weary,
And my days of youth are o’er,
And the mirth of that glad season
Is what I can feel no more.
* This is one of those pretty customs that yet remain at a due distance from London—London, that Thalaba of all observances. I remember once being awakened by a band of children coming up the old beech avenue, singing carols with all their heart. The tune was monotonous enough, and as to time, I will say nothing on the subject. Still the multitude of infant voices, and the open air, and the distance, gave a singularly wild and sweet effect to the chant of the childish company. The words, which I subjoin, had a practical tendency.
Ivy, holly, and misletoe,
Give me a penny, and let me go.
Scheme | A XBCB DEXE CFCF XGHG XXHD HIHI XXDX XXJC HKXK HHLH XHAH XLHL DDHM HHLH DXHH XNJN JDLM J HX |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 010101011010101001011000110101010100111010010001110101100100111001110111001001101011010101001010101 1110001 110101 01011010 101011 101111100 010111 101110010 010111 1101001 01111 1101010 1011101 0111110 001011 1011101 01011 1011111 0101001 1101110 0100010 0111110 1111101 1110110 11111 11101110 111101 10101010 110101 10101010 1110101 11111010 1101 00111010 1010101 0111010 0010101 0010101 110111 10101110 111111 0101110 010101 110101 110101 01011010 110111 0111011 0011101 0110110 1111101 1011110 1010111 100111 010001 1111110 0010101 11101010 111111 1010111 11101101 1111110 0011111 10111011 111101 11101110 0111111 00111110 1111111 11111101011011011011010111101001010110010101110101011101010111101101000101111111010011010110100010100101010001010110110101000111110100100 101001 110100111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 3,058 |
Words | 551 |
Sentences | 26 |
Stanzas | 20 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 1, 2 |
Lines Amount | 72 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 120 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 28 |
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"Sassoor, in the Deccan" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/45247/sassoor%2C-in-the-deccan>.
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