Analysis of Pleasure Becomes Pain
I cannot count the changes of my heart,
So often has it turned away from things
Once idols of its being. They depart—
Hopes, fancies, joys, illusions, as if wings
Sprang suddenly from all old ties, to start;
Or, if they linger longer, life but brings
Weariness, hollowness, canker, soil, and stain,
Till the heart saith of pleasure, it is pain.
Scheme | ABABABCC |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Ottava Rima |
Metre | 1101010111 1101110111 1101110101 1101010111 1100111111 1111010111 100110101 1011110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 365 |
Words | 68 |
Sentences | 2 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 8 |
Lines Amount | 8 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 266 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 61 |
About this poem
From Ethel Churchill, Volume 3
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"Pleasure Becomes Pain" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2025. Web. 28 Feb. 2025. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/211029/pleasure-becomes-pain>.
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