Analysis of Gravity

Harold Edward Monro 1879 ( Brussels, ) – 1932 ( Broadstairs,)



Fit for perpetual worship is the power
That holds our bodies safely to the earth.

When people talk of their domestic gods,
Then privately I think of You.

We ride through space upon your shoulders
Conveniently and lightly set,
And, so accustomed, we relax our hold,
Forget the gentle motion of your body -
But You do not forget.

Sometimes you breathe a little faster,
Or move a muscle:
Then we remember you, O Master.

When people meet in reverent groups
And sing to their domestic God,
You, all the time, dear tyrant, (How I laugh!)
Could, without effort, place your hand among them,
And sprinkle them about the desert.

But all your ways are carefully ordered,
For you have never questioned duty.
We watch your everlasting combinations;
We call them Fate; we turn them to our pleasure,
And when they most delight us, call them beauty.

I rest my body on your grass,
And let my brain repose in you;
I feel these living moments pass,
And, from within myself to those far places
To be imagined in your times and spaces,
Deliberate the various acts you do: -

Sorting and re-arranging worlds of Matter
Keenly and wisely. Thus you brought our earth
Through stages, and from purpose back to purpose,
From fire to fog, to dust, to birth
Through beast to man, who led himself to brain -
Then you invoked him back to dust again.

By leave of you he places stone on stone;
He scatters seed: you are at once the prop
Among the long roots of his fragile crop.
You manufacture for him, and insure
House, harvest, implement and furniture,
And hold them all secure.

The hill ... The trees ... From underneath
I feel You pull me with your hand:
Through my firm feet up to my heart
You hold me, - You are in the land,
Reposing underneath the hill.

You keep my balance and my growth.
I lift a foot, but where I go
You follow: you, the ever-strong,
Control the smallest thing I do.

I have some little human power
To turn your purpose to my end,
For which I thank you every hour.
I stand at worship, while you send
Thrills up my body to my heart,
And I am all in love to know
How by your strength you keep me part
Of earth, which cannot let me go;
How everything I see around,
Whether it can or cannot move,
Is granted liberty of ground,
And freedom to enjoy your love;

Though you are silent always, and, alone
To You yourself, your power remains unknown.
  


Scheme AB XC XDXED AXA XXXXX XEXAE FCFGGC ABXBXX HIIJAJ XKLKX XMXC ANANLMLMOXOX HH
Poetic Form
Metre 110100101010 11101010101 1101110101 11001111 111101110 01000101 01010101101 01010101110 111101 011101010 11010 110101110 110101001 01110101 1101110111 10110111011 010101010 1111110010 111101010 111010010 111111111010 01110111110 11110111 01110101 11110101 0101111110 11010011010 01000100111 10010101110 10010111101 11001101110 110111111 1111110111 1101111101 1111110111 111111101 0101111101 101011001 1101000100 011101 0101101 11111111 11111111 11111001 10101 11110011 11011111 11010101 01010111 111101010 11110111 1111110010 11110111 11110111 01110111 11111111 11110111 1101101 10111101 11010011 01010111 111101001 11011100101
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 2,336
Words 458
Sentences 20
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 2, 2, 5, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 5, 4, 12, 2
Lines Amount 63
Letters per line (avg) 29
Words per line (avg) 7
Letters per stanza (avg) 139
Words per stanza (avg) 34
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Submitted on August 03, 2020

Modified on March 05, 2023

2:17 min read
4

Harold Edward Monro

Harold Edward Monro was an English poet born in Brussels. As the proprietor of the Poetry Bookshop in London, he helped many poets to bring their work before the public more…

All Harold Edward Monro poems | Harold Edward Monro Books

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