Analysis of L'Allegro
John Milton 1608 (Cheapside) – 1674 (Chalfont St Giles)
HENCE, loathed Melancholy,
............Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born
In Stygian cave forlorn
............'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights
unholy!
Find out some uncouth cell,
............Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings,
And the night-raven sings;
............There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,
............In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
But come, thou Goddess fair and free,
In heaven yclept Euphrosyne,
And by men heart-easing Mirth;
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
With two sister Graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:
Or whether (as some sager sing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr, with Aurora pIaying,
As he met her once a-Maying,
There, on beds of violets blue,
And fresh-blown roses washed in dew,
Filled her with thee,. a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,
Quips and cranks and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks and wreathed smiles
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it, as you go,
On the light fantastic toe;
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty;
And, if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free:
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And, singing, startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the sweet-briar or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine;
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly struts his dames before:
Oft listening how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill:
Sometime walking, not unseen,
By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Robed in flames and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
While the ploughman, near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrowed land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures,
Whilst the landskip round it measures:
Russet lawns, and fallows grey,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray;
Mountains on whose barren breast
The labouring clouds do often rest;
Meadows trim, with daisies pied;
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide;
Towers and battlements it sees
Bosomed high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Hard by a cottage chimney smokes
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrsis met
Are at their savoury dinner set
Of herbs and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses;
And then in haste her bower she leaves,
With Thestylis to bind the sheaves;
Or, if the earlier season lead,
To the tanned haycock in the mead.
Sometimes, with secure delight,
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks sound
To many a youth and many a maid
Dancing in the chequered shade,
And young and old come forth to play
On a sunshine holiday,
Till the livelong daylight fail:
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,
With stories told of many a feat,
How Faery Mab the junkets eat.
She was pinched and pulled, she said;
And he, by Friar's lantern led,
Tells how the drudging goblin sweat
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn
That ten day-labourers could not end;
Then lies him down, the lubber fiend,
And, stretched out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength,
And crop-full out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whispering winds soon lulled asleep.
Towered cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold,
In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit or arms, while both contend
To win her grace whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear
In saffron robe
Scheme | ABBCADEEFFDABGGHHIIIIJJKKALMMNNOOPLAAJJAALLQQPPRRSSHHBBTTUULLLLLLVWXXYYZZLLLL1 1 QQ2 2 LL3 4 5 5 LLLLLLLLZLXXLLLLLLBBLL6 6 EE7 7 8 8 LLQQLL9 0 |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11100 1101011 0100101 11010101 010 111111 1101011101 001101 110110111 110111 01110101 11110101 01011 0111101 11010101 1110101 1101101 11011101 01011101 1010101 1110101 11111001 01110101 10110101 1101001 1110111 10101 1010101 101011 111111 01110101 1110101 01010111 1011111 1010101 00111111 01011100 0111111 1011111 11100111 01101 11010111 01010011 11110001 101111 11101110 011101110 10110101 101010 1011101 1011101 01011011 1011101 110010101 1101001 1011111 10111001 110101 111111 1010101 10110111 1010101 0101011 101111 10100101 00111 0010111 010010111 1001001 11111110 1011110 101011 10100111 1011101 0111101 111101 1010101 10010011 110101 1011101 01111 11010101 101111 11011 1111101 110101010 101101010 010101011 111101 110100101 1011001 0110101 01010101 1010111 00111 1100101001 100011 01011111 10110 10111 11010111 110111001 1110101 1110111 0111101 1101101 11111101 10111111 110011101 1111111 11110101 0111011 110101101 01111111 1011111 11011111 110011101 1010111 0010111 11110101 01111101 11110111 11000101 11111101 11011101 1110101 0101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 4,238 |
Words | 743 |
Sentences | 18 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 127 |
Lines Amount | 127 |
Letters per line (avg) | 27 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 3,394 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 743 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 22, 2023
- 3:44 min read
- 366 Views
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"L'Allegro" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/23803/l%27allegro>.
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