Analysis of The Hands of the Betrothed
David Herbert Lawrence 1885 (Eastwood, Nottinghamshire) – 1930 (Vence)
Her tawny eyes are onyx of thoughtlessness,
Hardened they are like gems in ancient modesty;
Yea, and her mouth’s prudent and crude caress
Means even less than her many words to me.
Though her kiss betrays me also this, this only
Consolation, that in her lips her blood at climax clips
Two wild, dumb paws in anguish on the lonely
Fruit of my heart, ere down, rebuked, it slips.
I know from her hardened lips that still her heart is
Hungry for me, yet if I put my hand in her breast
She puts me away, like a saleswoman whose mart is
Endangered by the pilferer on his quest.
But her hands are still the woman, the large, strong hands
Heavier than mine, yet like leverets caught in steel
When I hold them; my still soul understands
Their dumb confession of what her sort must feel.
For never her hands come nigh me but they lift
Like heavy birds from the morning stubble, to settle
Upon me like sleeping birds, like birds that shift
Uneasily in their sleep, disturbing my mettle.
How caressingly she lays her hand on my knee,
How strangely she tries to disown it, as it sinks
In my flesh and bone and forages into me,
How it stirs like a subtle stoat, whatever she thinks!
And often I see her clench her fingers tight
And thrust her fists suppressed in the folds of her skirt;
And sometimes, how she grasps her arms with her bright
Big hands, as if surely her arms did hurt.
And I have seen her stand all unaware
Pressing her spread hands over her breasts, as she
Would crush their mounds on her heart, to kill in there
The pain that is her simple ache for me.
Her strong hands take my part, the part of a man
To her; she crushes them into her bosom deep
Where I should lie, and with her own strong span
Closes her arms, that should fold me in sleep.
Ah, and she puts her hands upon the wall,
Presses them there, and kisses her bright hands,
Then lets her black hair loose, the darkness fall
About her from her maiden-folded bands.
And sits in her own dark night of her bitter hair
Dreaming—God knows of what, for to me she’s the same
Betrothed young lady who loves me, and takes care
Of her womanly virtue and of my good name.
Scheme | ABAB BABA ACAC ADAD EFEF BABA GHGH IBIB JKJK LALA IMIM |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain |
Metre | 010111011 101111010100 1001100101 11011010111 101011101110 010100101111 11110101010 1111110111 111010111011 1011111111001 111011010111 010101111 101110100111 10011111101 111111101 11010110111 11001111111 1101101010110 01111011111 0100011010110 111101111 110111011111 011010100011 111101011011 01011010101 010101001101 00111101101 1111100111 011101101 10011100111 11111011101 0111010111 01111101101 101101010101 1111010111 1001111101 1011010101 1011010011 1101110101 0101010101 010011110101 101111111101 1110111011 1011001111 |
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 2,157 |
Words | 407 |
Sentences | 12 |
Stanzas | 11 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 44 |
Letters per line (avg) | 38 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 152 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 37 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:02 min read
- 51 Views
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"The Hands of the Betrothed" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/7885/the-hands-of-the-betrothed>.
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