Analysis of On the Threshold
O God, my dream! I dreamed that you were dead;
Your mother hung above the couch and wept
Whereon you lay all white, and garlanded
With blooms of waxen whiteness. I had crept
Up to your chamber-door, which stood ajar,
And in the doorway watched you from afar,
Nor dared advance to kiss your lips and brow.
I had no part nor lot in you, as now;
Death had not broken between us the old bar;
Nor torn from out my heart the old, cold sense
Of your misprision and my impotence.
Scheme | ABABCCDDCEF |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111111101 1101010101 1111101 111110111 1111011101 000111101 1101111101 1111110111 11110011011 1111110111 1101001100 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 469 |
Words | 94 |
Sentences | 5 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 11 |
Lines Amount | 11 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 365 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 92 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 07, 2023
- 28 sec read
- 470 Views
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"On the Threshold" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/2140/on-the-threshold>.
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