Analysis of The Crown of Thorns
Ada Cambridge 1844 (St Germans, Norfolk) – 1926 (Melbourne)
“And unto Adam He said . . . . cursed is the ground for thy sake. Thorns . .
. . shall it bring forth.”
“And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on His head.”
In bitterest sorrow did the ground bring forth
Its fatal seed. Thine eyes beheld the birth—
Beheld the travail of accursèd earth;
E'en then, O Lord! in greater love than wrath!
Thou sawest the sin that none could gather out—
The vineyard cover'd with the thorn and briar;
Thou sawest the fair land ready for the fire—
And still Thy pity compass'd it about.
Thou, O most merciful! didst spare the brand;
Thou didst redeem the Paradise of God;
The thorns were rooted from the stubborn sod,
In pain and toil, by Thine own blessèd hand.
How was our path to heaven o'ergrown with sin—
Bramble, and thistle, and the poisonous weed!
Though hearts should break, and patient feet should bleed,
And strive and struggle, none could walk therein.
And Thou didst call us when we went astray—
Didst make our high road straight for evermore;
And, for our guidance, passèd on before,
Leaving Thy shining footprints in the way.
Still do the wild thorns hedge us round about;
Still grow the thistles from the ancient stock;
Still trails the bramble on the blasted rock—
But we can dig, and Thou wilt pull them out.
Ay, we can work—oh, help us in the strife!
Labour is sweet, for Thou dost share it now.
And we shall eat, in sweat of furrow'd brow,
Not earthly food, but Thine own Bread of Life.
And there are thorns of suffering left behind—
Sorrow and loss—that weigh our courage down;
But, ah! we know Thy sacramental crown
Was made of sin and sorrow, intertwined.
Give us of Thy sweet patience, Lord, we pray.
We would not spurn them with rebellious kicks,
Nor fret and strive, for Thou canst feel the pricks;
We too would wear them as a crown for aye.
We would put on Thy likeness—we, the least
And most unworthy. Ay, each piercing thorn,
In Thy name patiently and meekly worn,
Shall bear a blossom for the bridal feast.
Look down, O Brother with the yearning eyes!
Behold us kneeling at Thy bitter cross!
Grant us a share in all Thine earthly loss,
That we may share Thy gain in Paradise.
O weary Head! we see Thee drooping now
Beneath that diadem of mortal pain:
We see Thee sprinkled with the scarlet stain;—
Drop down the chrism on our polluted brow!
O sacred Head!—pale, beautiful, benign—
On our heads be Thy precious blood, we cry!
Lo, the destroying angel, passing by,
Shall spare to smite us—reverencing the sign.
Scheme | XAX ABBX CDDC EFFE GHHG IJJI CKKC LMML NOON IPPQ RSSR XTTX MUUM VQQV |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 010101111011111 1111 001010111011111 01001010111 110111101 10011111 11111010111 1101111101 01010101010 11011101010 011101101 1111001101 110101011 0101010101 0101111111 11101110111 10010001001 1111010111 0101011101 0111111101 1110111110 01101011101 101101001 1101111101 1101010101 1101010101 1111011111 1111111001 111111111 0111011101 1101111111 01111100101 10011110101 1111110001 1111010001 1111110111 1111110101 1101111101 1111110111 1111110101 0101011101 0111000101 1101010101 1111010101 0111011101 1101011101 111111010 1101111101 011101101 1111010101 11011100101 1101110001 11011110111 1001010101 11111101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,475 |
Words | 453 |
Sentences | 39 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 55 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 137 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 33 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 26, 2023
- 2:17 min read
- 107 Views
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"The Crown of Thorns" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/99/the-crown-of-thorns>.
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