Song
Anne Brontë 1820 (Thornton, West Yorkshire) – 1849 (Scarborough, North Yorkshire)
We know where deepest lies the snow,
And where the frost-winds keenest blow,
O'er every mountain's brow,
We long have known and learnt to bear
The wandering outlaw's toil and care,
But where we late were hunted, there
Our foes are hunted now.
We have their princely homes, and they
To our wild haunts are chased away,
Dark woods, and desert caves.
And we can range from hill to hill,
And chase our vanquished victors still;
Small respite will they find until
They slumber in their graves.
But I would rather be the hare,
That crouching in its sheltered lair
Must start at every sound;
That forced from cornfields waving wide
Is driven to seek the bare hillside,
Or in the tangled copse to hide,
Than be the hunter's hound.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 40 sec read
- 133 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | AABCCCBDDEFFFE CCGHHHG |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 783 |
Words | 132 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 14, 7 |
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"Song" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/3168/song>.
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