Song IX. - The fatal hours are wondrous near
William Shenstone 1714 (Halesowen) – 1763 (Halesowen)
The fatal hours are wondrous near,
That from these fountains bear my dear;
A little space is given; in vain
She robs my sight, and shuns the plain.
A little space, for me to prove
My boundless flame, my endless love;
And, like the train of vulgar hours,
Invidious Time that space devours.
Near yonder beech is Delia's way,
On that I gaze the livelong day;
No eastern monarch's dazzling pride
Should draw my longing eyes aside.
The chief that knows of succours nigh,
And sees his mangled legions die,
Casts not a more impatient glance
To see the loitering aids advance.
Not more the schoolboy, that expires
Far from his native home, requires
To see some friend's familiar face,
Or meet a parent's last embrace-
She comes-but, ah! what crowds of beaus
In radiant bands my fair enclose!
Oh! better hadst thou shunn'd the green;
Oh, Delia! better far unseen.
Methinks, by all my tender fears,
By all my sighs, by all my tears,
I might from torture now be free-
'Tis more than death to part from thee!
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 56 sec read
- 124 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | AABB XXCC DDEE FFGG CCHH CXII XXJJ |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 977 |
Words | 182 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
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"Song IX. - The fatal hours are wondrous near" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/41590/song-ix.---the-fatal-hours-are-wondrous-near>.
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