Analysis of An Ode
Thomas Bailey Aldrich 1836 (Portsmouth) – 1907 (Boston)
I
NOT with slow, funereal sound
Come we to this sacred ground;
Not with wailing fife and solemn muffled drum,
Bringing a cypress wreath
To lay, with bended knee,
On the cold brows of Death—
Not so, dear God, we come,
But with the trumpets’ blare
And shot-torn battle-banners flung to air,
As for a victory!
Hark to the measured tread of martial feet,
The music and the murmurs of the street!
No bugle breathes this day
Disaster and retreat!—
Hark, how the iron lips
Of the great battle-ships
Salute the City from her azure Bay!
Time was—time was, ah, unforgotten years!—
We paid our hero tribute of our tears.
But now let go
All sounds and signs and formulas of woe:
’T is Life, not Death, we celebrate;
To Life, not Death, we dedicate
This storied bronze, whereon is wrought
The lithe immortal figure of our thought,
To show forever to men’s eyes,
Our children’s children’s children’s eyes,
How once he stood
In that heroic mood,
He and his dusky braves
So fain of glorious graves!—
One instant stood, and then
Drave through that cloud of purple steel and flame,
Which wrapt him, held him, gave him not again,
But in its trampled ashes left to Fame
An everlasting name!
That was indeed to live—
At one bold swoop to wrest
From darkling death the best
That death to life can give.
He fell as Roland fell
That day at Roncevaux,
With foot upon the ramparts of the foe!
A pæan, not a knell,
For heroes dying so!
No need for sorrow here,
No room for sigh or tear,
Save such rich tears as happy eyelids know.
See where he rides, our Knight!
Within his eyes the light
Of battle, and youth’s gold about his brow;
Our Paladin, our Soldier of the Cross,
Not weighing gain with loss—
World-loser, that won all
Obeying duty’s call!
Not his, at peril’s frown,
A pulse of quicker beat;
Not his to hesitate
And parley hold with Fate,
But proudly to fling down
His gauntlet at her feet.
O soul of loyal valor and white truth,
Here, by this iron gate,
Thy serried ranks about thee as of yore,
Stand thou for evermore
In thy undying youth!
The tender heart, the eagle eye!
Oh, unto him belong
The homages of Song;
Our praises and the praise
Of coming days
To him belong—
To him, to him, the dead that shall not die!
Scheme | ABBCXDXCEED FFGFHHG XXIIJJKKLLXXMMNONOO XPPXQHIQIXEIRRXSSTTUFJJUFVJWWV AXXYYXA |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1 11111 1111101 11101010101 100101 111101 101111 111111 110101 0111010111 110100 1101011101 0100010101 110111 010001 110101 101101 0101010101 1111111 111010101101 1111 1101010011 11111110 1111110 1101111 01010101101 11010111 101010101 1111 010101 10111 1111001 110101 1111110101 1111111101 1011010111 10101 110111 111111 11101 111111 111101 1111 110101101 011101 110101 111101 111111 111111011 1111101 011101 1100110111 101001010101 110111 110111 01011 111101 011101 11110 010111 110111 110101 1111010011 111101 111011111 11110 010101 01010101 110101 010011 1010001 1101 1101 1111011111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,187 |
Words | 416 |
Sentences | 19 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 11, 7, 19, 30, 7 |
Lines Amount | 74 |
Letters per line (avg) | 23 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 339 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 82 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 15, 2023
- 2:04 min read
- 52 Views
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"An Ode" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/36016/an-ode>.
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