Analysis of The Teacher's Monologue
Charlotte Brontë 1816 (Thornton, West Yorkshire) – 1855 (Haworth)
THE room is quiet, thoughts alone
People its mute tranquillity;
The yoke put on, the long task done,
I am, as it is bliss to be,
Still and untroubled. Now, I see,
For the first time, how soft the day
O'er waveless water, stirless tree,
Silent and sunny, wings its way.
Now, as I watch that distant hill,
So faint, so blue, so far removed,
Sweet dreams of home my heart may fill,
That home where I am known and loved:
It lies beyond; yon azure brow
Parts me from all Earth holds for me;
And, morn and eve, my yearnings flow
Thitherward tending, changelessly.
My happiest hours, aye ! all the time,
I love to keep in memory,
Lapsed among moors, ere life's first prime
Decayed to dark anxiety.
Sometimes, I think a narrow heart
Makes me thus mourn those far away,
And keeps my love so far apart
From friends and friendships of to-day;
Sometimes, I think 'tis but a dream
I measure up so jealously,
All the sweet thoughts I live on seem
To vanish into vacancy:
And then, this strange, coarse world around
Seems all that's palpable and true;
And every sight, and every sound,
Combines my spirit to subdue
To aching grief, so void and lone
Is Life and Earthso worse than vain,
The hopes that, in my own heart sown,
And cherished by such sun and rain
As Joy and transient Sorrow shed,
Have ripened to a harvest there:
Alas ! methinks I hear it said,
'Thy golden sheaves are empty air.'
All fades away; my very home
I think will soon be desolate;
I hear, at times, a warning come
Of bitter partings at its gate;
And, if I should return and see
The hearth-fire quenched, the vacant chair;
And hear it whispered mournfully,
That farewells have been spoken there,
What shall I do, and whither turn ?
Where look for peace ? When cease to mourn ?
'Tis not the air I wished to play,
The strain I wished to sing;
My wilful spirit slipped away
And struck another string.
I neither wanted smile nor tear,
Bright joy nor bitter woe,
But just a song that sweet and clear,
Though haply sad, might flow.
A quiet song, to solace me
When sleep refused to come;
A strain to chase despondency,
When sorrowful for home.
In vain I try; I cannot sing;
All feels so cold and dead;
No wild distress, no gushing spring
Of tears in anguish shed;
But all the impatient gloom of one
Who waits a distant day,
When, some great task of suffering done,
Repose shall toil repay.
For youth departs, and pleasure flies,
And life consumes away,
And youth's rejoicing ardour dies
Beneath this drear delay;
And Patience, weary with her yoke,
Is yielding to despair,
And Health's elastic spring is broke
Beneath the strain of care.
Life will be gone ere I have lived;
Where now is Life's first prime ?
I've worked and studied, longed and grieved,
Through all that rosy time.
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,
Is such my future fate ?
The morn was dreary, must the eve
Be also desolate ?
Well, such a life at least makes Death
A welcome, wished-for friend;
Then, aid me, Reason, Patience, Faith,
To suffer to the end !
Scheme | ABCDDBDEFBFBXDGFHDHB BEBBIDIDBXBBAJAJBKBKLBMBDKFKXX ENENKGXG DMDLNBNB CBCEOEOE PKPKBHBH QBQBXBXB |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Etheree (29%) Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 01110101 10111 01110111 11111111 10010111 10111101 1011011 10010111 11111101 11111101 11111111 11111101 11011101 11111111 01011101 1101 1100101101 11110100 10111111 01110100 01110101 11111101 01111101 11010111 01111101 11011100 10111111 11001100 01111101 11110001 0100101001 01110101 11011101 11011111 01101111 01011101 11010101 11010101 0111111 11011101 11011101 11111100 11110101 1101111 01110101 011010101 011101 1111101 11110101 11111111 11011111 011111 1110101 010101 11010111 111101 11011101 11111 01011101 110111 01110100 110011 01111101 111101 11011101 110101 110010111 110101 111111001 011101 11010101 010101 0101011 011101 01010101 110101 01010111 010111 11111111 111111 11010101 111101 11111111 111101 01110101 110100 11011111 010111 11110101 110101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,996 |
Words | 551 |
Sentences | 21 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 20, 30, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8 |
Lines Amount | 90 |
Letters per line (avg) | 25 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 327 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 79 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 12, 2023
- 2:47 min read
- 70 Views
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"The Teacher's Monologue" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 3 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/5531/the-teacher%27s-monologue>.
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