Analysis of Autumn
Christina Georgina Rossetti 1830 (London) – 1894 (London)
I dwell alone - I dwell alone, alone,
Whilst full my river flows down to the sea,
Gilded with flashing boats
That bring no friend to me:
O love-songs, gurgling from a hundred throats,
O love-pangs, let me be.
Fair fall the freighted boats which gold and stone
And spices bear to sea:
Slim, gleaming maidens swell their mellow notes,
Love-promising, entreating -
Ah! sweet, but fleeting -
Beneath the shivering, snow-white sails.
Hush! the wind flags and fails -
Hush! they will lie becalmed in sight of strand -
Sight of my strand, where I do dwell alone;
Their songs wake singing echoes in my land -
They cannot hear me moan.
One latest, solitary swallow flies
Across the sea, rough autumn-tempest tossed,
Poor bird, shall it be lost?
Dropped down into this uncongenial sea,
With no kind eyes
To watch it while it dies,
Unguessed, uncared for, free:
Set free at last,
The short pang past,
In sleep, in death, in dreamless sleep locked fast.
Mine avenue is all a growth of oaks,
Some rent by thunder strokes,
Some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze;
Fair fall my fertile trees,
That rear their goodly heads, and live at ease.
A spider's web blocks all mine avenue;
He catches down and foolish painted flies,
That spider wary and wise.
Each morn it hangs a rainbow strung with dew
Betwixt boughs green with sap,
So fair, few creatures guess it is a trap:
I will not mar the web,
Though sad I am to see the small lives ebb.
It shakes - my trees shake - for a wind is roused
In cavern where it housed:
Each white and quivering sail,
Of boats among the water leaves
Hollows and strains in the full-throated gale:
Each maiden sings again -
Each languid maiden, whom the calm
Had lulled to sleep with rest and spice and balm
Miles down my river to the sea
They float and wane,
Long miles away from me.
Perhaps they say: ‘She grieves,
Uplifted, like a beacon, on her tower.’
Perhaps they say: ‘One hour
More, and we dance among the golden sheaves.’
Perhaps they say: ‘One hour
More, and we stand,
Face to face, hand in hand;
Make haste, O slack gale, to the looked-for land!’
My trees are not in flower,
I have no bower,
And gusty creaks my tower,
And lonesome, very lonesome, is my strand.
Scheme | abcbcbabcddeefafa ghhbggbiii jjkkk lgglmmnn oopqpxrrbxb qsSqSfff sssf |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101110101 1111011101 101101 111111 11110010101 111111 110111101 010111 1101011101 11001 11110 010100111 101101 1111010111 1111111101 1111010011 110111 110100101 0101110101 111111 1101111 1111 111111 1111 1111 0111 010101111 110110111 111101 1101010001 111101 1111010111 01111110 1101010101 1101001 111101111 011111 1111011101 111101 1111110111 1111110111 010111 1101001 11010101 1001001101 110101 11010101 1111110101 11110101 1101 110111 011111 10010101010 0111110 1011010101 0111110 1011 111101 1111110111 1111010 11110 0101110 0101010111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,209 |
Words | 408 |
Sentences | 17 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 17, 10, 5, 8, 11, 8, 4 |
Lines Amount | 63 |
Letters per line (avg) | 27 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 241 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 58 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:02 min read
- 64 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Autumn" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/5741/autumn>.
Discuss this Christina Georgina Rossetti poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In