Analysis of The Wood-Pile
Robert Frost 1874 (San Francisco) – 1963 (Boston)
Out walking in the frozen swamp one gray day,
I paused and said, "I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther -- and we shall see."
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
One foot went through. The view was all in lines
Straight up and down of tall slim trees
Too much alike to mark or name a place by
So as to say for certain I was here
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
A small bird flew before me. He was careful
To put a tree between us when he lighted,
And say no word to tell me who he was
Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
He thought that I was after him for a feather --
The white one in his tail; like one who takes
Everything said as personal to himself.
One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand.
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled -- and measured, four by four by eight.
And not another like it could I see.
No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it.
And it was older sure than this year's cutting,
Or even last year's or the year's before.
The wood was gray and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
What held it though on one side was a tree
Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
These latter about to fall. I thought that only
Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
Could so forget his handiwork on which
He spent himself, the labor of his ax,
And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.
Scheme | ABCDEFGBHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWCVXYVZIC1 C2 Q3 4 5 A |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Tetractys (20%) Etheree (20%) |
Metre | 11000101111 1101111111 11111100111 0111111101 1111011101 11011111 11011111011 1111110111 111111111 01110111110 11010111110 0111111111 11110111111 111111011010 0110111111 1011100101 11111111 0111011111 1011011101 1011011111 0111110111 1101111111 1101110101 0101011111 0101011111 11010111111 01110111110 1101110101 01110011011 0011110100 11110111010 1111111101 1100110101 110011111110 111010111 110111011 1101010111 01111101010 1101011111 1011010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,726 |
Words | 361 |
Sentences | 19 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 40 |
Lines Amount | 40 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,354 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 358 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 19, 2023
- 1:49 min read
- 203 Views
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"The Wood-Pile" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/30941/the-wood-pile>.
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