Analysis of An Olde Lyric.
Horace Smith 1836 (London) – 1922
Oh, saw ye my own true love, I praye,
My own true love so sweete?
For the flowers have lightly toss'd awaye
The prynte of her faery feete.
Now, how can we telle if she passed us bye?
Is she darke or fayre to see?
Like sloes are her eyes, or blue as the skies?
Is't braided her haire or free?
Oh, never by outward looke or signe,
My true love shall ye knowe;
There be many as fayre, and many as fyne,
And many as brighte to showe.
But if ye coude looke with angel's eyes,
Which into the soule can see,
She then would be seene as the matchless Queene
Of Love and of Puritie.
Scheme | ABABACDC EFEFDCEB |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111111111 111111 101011011 011011 1111111111 1111111 1110111101 11100111 110110111 111111 11101101011 0101111 11111111 1010111 111111011 11011 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 571 |
Words | 122 |
Sentences | 10 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8 |
Lines Amount | 16 |
Letters per line (avg) | 27 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 217 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 59 |
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Submitted on August 03, 2020
Modified on March 28, 2023
- 37 sec read
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"An Olde Lyric." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 1 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/55610/an-olde-lyric.>.
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