Analysis of Sir Walter Scott
Letitia Elizabeth Landon 1802 (Chelsea) – 1838 (Cape Coast)
DEAD!—it was like a thunderbolt
To hear that he was dead;
Though for long weeks the words of fear
Came from his dying bed;
Yet hope denied, and would deny—
We did not think that he could die.
The poet has a glorious hold
Upon the human heart,
Yet glory is from sympathy
A light alone—apart;
But there was something in thy name,
Which touched us with a dearer claim
The earnest feeling borne to thee
Was like a household tie,
A sunshine on our common life,
And from our daily sky.
Thy works are those familiar things
From which so much of memory springs.
We talked of them beside the hearth,
Till every story blends
With some remembered intercourse
Of near and dearest friends,
Friends that in early youth were ours.
Connected with life's happiest hours.
How well I can recall the time
When first I turned thy page,
The green boughs closed above my head
A natural hermitage;
And sang a little brook along,
As if it heard and caught thy song.
I peopled all the walks and shades
With images of thine;
The lime-tree was a lady's bower,
The yew-tree was a shrine:
Almost I deemed each sunbeam shone
O'er banner, spear, and morion.
Now, not one single trace is left
Of that sequestered nook;
The very course is turned aside
Of that melodious brook:
Not so the memories can depart,
Then garner'd in my inmost heart.
The past was his—his generous song
Went back to other days,
With filial feeling, which still sees
Something to love and praise,
And closer drew the ties which bind
Man with his country and his kind.
It rang throughout his native land,
A bold and stirring song,
As the merle's hymn at matin sweet,
And as the trumpet strong:
A touch there was of each degree,
Half minstrel and half knight was he.
How many a lonely mountain glade
Lives in his verse anew,
Linked with associate sympathy,
The tender and the true;
For nature has fresh beauty brought,
When animate with life from thought.
'Tis not the valley nor the hill,
Tho' beautiful they be,
That can suffice the heart, till touched
As they were touched by thee;
Thou who didst glorify the whole,
By pouring forth the poet's soul.
Who now could stand upon the banks
Of thine own 'silver Tweed?'
Nor deem they heard thy 'warrior's horn,'
Or heard thy 'shepherd's reed?'
Immutable as Nature's claim,
The ground is hallowed by thy name.
I cannot bear to see the shelf
Where ranged thy volumes stand,
And think that mute is now thy lip,
And cold is now thy hand;
That, hadst thou been more common clay,
So soon thou hadst not passed sway,
For thou didst die before thy time,
The tenement o'erwrought,
The heart consumed by its desire,
The body worn by thought;
Thyself the victim of thy shrine,
A glorious sacrifice was thine.
Alas, it is too soon for this—
The future for thy fame;
But now we mourn as if we mourned
A father's cherished claim.
Ah! time may bid the laurel wave—
We can but weep above thy grave.
Scheme | ABXBCC XDEDFF ECXCGG XHXHII JXBXKK XLMLXC XNXNDDKOXOPP QKXKEE XRERSS XEXETT XUXUFF XQXQVV JAMSLL XFXFWW |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Etheree (29%) Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 1111010 111111 11110111 111101 11010101 11111111 010101001 010101 11011100 010101 11110011 11110101 01010111 11011 01110101 0110101 11110101 111111001 11110101 1100101 1101010 110101 110101010 0101110010 1111101 111111 01110111 0100100 01010101 11110111 11010101 110011 011101010 011101 111111 1010101 11110111 110101 01011101 1101001 110100101 1100111 011111001 111101 110010111 101101 01010111 11110011 11011101 010101 1011111 010101 01111101 11001111 110010101 101101 110100100 010001 11011101 11001111 11010101 110011 11010111 110111 1111001 11010101 11110101 111101 1111111 111101 01001101 01110111 11011101 111101 01111111 011111 11111101 1111111 11110111 01001 010111010 010111 1010111 01001011 01111111 010111 11111111 010101 11110101 11110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,799 |
Words | 532 |
Sentences | 21 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 12, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6 |
Lines Amount | 90 |
Letters per line (avg) | 25 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 160 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 38 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:42 min read
- 97 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Sir Walter Scott" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/25706/sir-walter-scott>.
Discuss this Letitia Elizabeth Landon poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In