Analysis of I Chide Not At The Seasons
Alfred Austin 1835 (Leeds) – 1913 (Ashford)
I chide not at the seasons, for if Spring
With backward look refuses to be fair,
My Love still more than April makes me sing,
And shows May blossom in the bleak March air.
Should Summer fail its tryst, or June delay
To wreathe my porch with roses red and pale,
Her breath is sweeter than the new-mown hay,
Her touch more clinging than the woodbine's trail.
Let Autumn like a spendthrift waste the year,
And reap no harvest save the fallen leaves,
My Love still ripeneth, though she grows not sere,
And smiles enthroned upon our piled-up sheaves.
And last, when miser Winter docks the days,
She warms my hearth and keeps my hopes ablaze.
Scheme | ABABCDCDEFEFGG |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Shakespearean sonnet |
Metre | 1111010111 1101010111 1111110111 0111000111 1101111101 1111110101 0111010111 011101011 110101101 0111010101 111111111 0110110111 0111010101 1111011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 631 |
Words | 118 |
Sentences | 5 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 36 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 502 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 116 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 35 sec read
- 55 Views
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"I Chide Not At The Seasons" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/735/i-chide-not-at-the-seasons>.
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