Analysis of From the Grave
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 1855 (Janesville) – 1919
When the first sere leaves of the year were falling,
I heard, with a heart that was strangely thrilled,
Out of the grave of a dead Past calling,
A voice I fancied forever stilled.
All through winter and spring and summer,
Silence hung over that grave like a pall,
But, borne on the breath of the last sad comer,
I listen again to the old-time call.
It is only a love of a by-gone season,
A senseless folly that mocked at me
A reckless passion that lacked all reason,
So I killed it, and hid it where none could see.
I smothered it first to stop its crying,
Then stabbed it through with a good sharp blade,
And cold and pallid I saw it lying,
And deep—ah' deep was the grave I made.
But now I know that there is no killing
A thing like Love, for it laughs at Death.
There is no hushing, there is no stilling
That which is part of your life and breath.
You may bury it deep, and leave behind you
The land, the people, that knew your slain;
It will push the sods from its grave, and find you
On wastes of water or desert plain.
You may hear but tongues of a foreign people,
You may list to sounds that are strange and new;
But, clear as a silver bell in a steeple,
That voice from the grave shall call to you.
You may rouse your pride, you may use your reason.
And seem for a space to slay Love so;
But, all in its own good time and season,
It will rise and follow wherever you go.
You shall sit sometimes, when the leaves are falling,
Alone with your heart, as I sit to-day,
And hear that voice from your dead Past calling
Out of the graves that you hid away.
Scheme | A B A B C X C X D E D E A F A F A G A G H I H I J H J H D K D K A L A L |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 10111101010 1110111101 1101101110 011100101 111001010 1011011101 11101101110 1100110111 111001101110 010101111 0101011110 11110111111 1101111110 111110111 0101011110 011110111 1111111110 011111111 11111111 111111101 11101101011 010101111 11101111011 111101101 11111101010 1111111101 11101010010 111011111 11111111110 011011111 1101111010 11101001011 11101101110 0111111111 0111111110 110111101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,532 |
Words | 312 |
Sentences | 12 |
Stanzas | 36 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
Lines Amount | 36 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 33 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 9 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:33 min read
- 101 Views
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"From the Grave" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/10616/from-the-grave>.
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