Analysis of The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12: Witches' Sabbath

Conrad Potter Aiken 1889 (Savannah, Georgia) – 1973 (Savannah, Georgia)



Now, when the moon slid under the cloud
And the cold clear dark of starlight fell,
He heard in his blood the well-known bell
Tolling slowly in heaves of sound,
Slowly beating, slowly beating,
Shaking its pulse on the stagnant air:
Sometimes it swung completely round,
Horribly gasping as if for breath;
Falling down with an anguished cry . . .
Now the red bat, he mused, will fly;
Something is marked, this night, for death . . .
And while he mused, along his blood
Flew ghostly voices, remote and thin,
They rose in the cavern of his brain,
Like ghosts they died away again;
And hands upon his heart were laid,
And music upon his flesh was played,
Until, as he was bidden to do,
He walked the wood he so well knew.
Through the cold dew he moved his feet,
And heard far off, as under the earth,
Discordant music in shuddering tones,
Screams of laughter, horrible mirth,
Clapping of hands, and thudding of drums,
And the long-drawn wail of one in pain.
To-night, he thought, I shall die again,
We shall die again in the red-eyed fire
To meet on the edge of the wood beyond
With the placid gaze of fed desire . . .
He walked; and behind the whisper of trees,
In and out, one walked with him:
She parted the branches and peered at him,
Through lowered lids her two eyes burned,
He heard her breath, he saw her hand,
Wherever he turned his way, she turned:
Kept pace with him, now fast, now slow;
Moving her white knees as he moved . . .
This is the one I have always loved;
This is the one whose bat-soul comes
To dance with me, flesh to flesh,
In the starlight dance of horns and drums . . .

The walls and roofs, the scarlet towers,
Sank down behind a rushing sky.
He heard a sweet song just begun
Abruptly shatter in tones and die.
It whirled away.  Cold silence fell.
And again came tollings of a bell.

*     *     *     *     *

This air is alive with witches: the white witch rides
Swifter than smoke on the starlit wind.
In the clear darkness, while the moon hides,
They come like dreams, like something remembered . .
Let us hurry! beloved; take my hand,
Forget these things that trouble your eyes,
Forget, forget!  Our flesh is changed,
Lighter than smoke we wreathe and rise . . .

The cold air hisses between us . . . Beloved, beloved,
What was the word you said?
Something about clear music that sang through water . . .
I cannot remember.  The storm-drops break on the leaves.
Something was lost in the darkness.  Someone is dead.
Someone lies in the garden and grieves.
Look how the branches are tossed in this air,
Flinging their green to the earth!
Black clouds rush to devour the stars in the sky,
The moon stares down like a half-closed eye.
The leaves are scattered, the birds are blown,
Oaks crash down in the darkness,
We run from our windy shadows; we are running alone.

*     *     *     *     *

The moon was darkened: across it flew
The swift grey tenebrous shape he knew,
Like a thing of smoke it crossed the sky,
The witch! he said.  And he heard a cry,
And another came, and another came,
And one, grown duskily red with blood,
Floated an instant across the moon,
Hung like a dull fantastic flame . . .
The earth has veins: they throb to-night,
The earth swells warm beneath my feet,
The tips of the trees grow red and bright,
The leaves are swollen, I feel them beat,
They press together, they push and sigh,
They listen to hear the great bat cry,
The great red bat with the woman's face . . .
Hurry! he said.  And pace for pace
That other, who trod the dark with him,
Crushed the live leaves, reached out white hands
And closed her eyes, the better to see
The priests with claws, the lovers with hooves,
The fire-lit rock, the sarabands.
I am here! she said.  The bough he broke—
Was it the snapping bough that spoke?
I am here! she said.  The white thigh gleamed
Cold in starlight among dark leaves,
The head thrown backward as he had dreamed,
The shadowy red deep jasper mouth;
And the lifted hands, and the virgin breasts,
Passed beside him, and vanished away.
I am here! she cried.  He answered 'Stay!'
And laughter arose, and near and far
Answering laughter rose and died . . .
Who is there? in the dark? he cried.
He stood in terror, and heard a sound
Of terrible hooves on the hollow ground;
They rushed, were still; a silence fell;
And he heard deep tollings of a bell.

*     *     *     *     *

Look beloved!  Why do you hide your face?
Look, in the centre


Scheme XAABXCBDEEDFXGHIIJJKLMLNGHOXOXPPQRQXXSNXN XEXEAA TXTXRUXU SVOWVWCLEEXXX JJEEYFXYZKZKEE1 1 PXXXM2 2 3 W3 XX4 4 X5 5 BBAA 1 O
Poetic Form Etheree  (26%)
Tetractys  (21%)
Metre 110111001 00111111 110110111 10100111 10101010 101110101 01110101 100101111 10111101 10111111 10111111 01110111 110100101 110010111 11110101 01011101 010011111 011111011 11011111 10111111 011111001 0101001001 11101001 10110111 001111101 111111101 11101001110 1110110101 1010111010 1100101011 0011111 1100100111 11010111 11011101 010111111 11111111 10011111 11011111 11011111 1111111 00111101 010101010 11010101 11011101 010100101 11011101 00111101 1 111011100111 101110101 001101011 1111110010 111001111 011111011 010110111 10111101 011100110101 110111 100111011110 1100100111101 10110010111 11001001 1101011011 1011101 111101001001 011110111 011100111 1110010 11110101111001 1 011100111 011100111 101111101 011101101 0010100101 0111111 101100101 11010101 01111111 01110111 011011101 011101111 110101101 110110111 011110101 10110111 110110111 10111111 010101011 011101011 0101101 111110111 11010111 111110111 1010111 011101111 010011101 0010100101 101101001 111111101 010010101 10010101 11100111 110100101 1100110101 11010101 01111101 1 101111111 10010
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 4,294
Words 793
Sentences 75
Stanzas 9
Stanza Lengths 41, 6, 1, 8, 13, 1, 37, 1, 2
Lines Amount 110
Letters per line (avg) 30
Words per line (avg) 8
Letters per stanza (avg) 366
Words per stanza (avg) 98
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 29, 2023

3:58 min read
68

Conrad Potter Aiken

Conrad Potter Aiken was a Pulitzer Prize-winning American author born in Savannah Georgia whose work includes poetry short stories novels and an autobiography more…

All Conrad Potter Aiken poems | Conrad Potter Aiken Books

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    "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12: Witches' Sabbath" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 1 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/7077/the-house-of-dust%3A-part-03%3A-12%3A-witches%27-sabbath>.

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