Analysis of The Pleasures of Hope (excerpt)
Thomas Campbell 1777 (Glasgow) – 1844 (Boulogne-sur-Mer)
PART I (excerpt)
...
Where barbarous hordes on Scythian mountains roam,
Truth, Mercy, Freedom, yet shall find a home;
Where'er degraded Nature bleeds and pines,
From Guinea's coast to Sibir's dreary mines,
Truth shall pervade the unfathomed darkness there,
And light the dreadful features of despair.
Hark! the stern captive spurns his heavy load,
And asks the image back that Heaven bestowed.
Fierce in his eye the fire of valour burns,
And, as the slave departs, the man returns.
Oh! sacred Truth! thy triumph ceased awhile,
And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile,
When leagued Oppression poured to Northern wars
Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars,
Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn,
Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn;
Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van,
Presaging wrath to Poland--and to man!
Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed
Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid;
"Oh! Heaven!" he cried, "my bleeding country save!
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise, fellow men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name we wave the sword on high,
And swear for her to live!--with her to die!"
He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed
His trusty warriors, few but undismayed;
Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form,
Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm;
Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly,
Revenge, or death,--the watch-word and reply;
Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm,
And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm!
In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!
From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew;
Oh, bloodiest picture in the book of Time,
Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime;
Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe,
Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe!
Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear,
Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career,--
Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell,
And Freedom shrieked--as Kosciusko fell!
The sun went down, nor ceased the carnage there.
Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air;
On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow,
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below;
The storm prevails, the rampart yields a way;
Bursts the wide cry of horror and dismay!
Hark! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall,
A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call!
Earth shook; red meteors flashed along the sky,
And conscious Nature shuddered at the cry!
Oh! righteous Heaven! ere Freedom found a grave,
Why slept the sword omnipotent to save?
Where was thine arm, O Vengeance! where thy rod,
That smote the foes of Zion and of God,
That crushed proud Ammon, when his iron car
Was yoked in wrath, and thundered from afar?
Where was the storm that slumbered till the host
Of blood-stained Pharaoh left their trembling coast,
Then bade the deep in wild commotion flow,
And heaved an ocean on their march below?
Scheme | A BBCCDDEEFF GGXCHHII JJKKLLMM JANNMMOO PPQQRRSSTT DDRRUUVVMM KKWWXXYYRR |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1110 1 110011100101 1101011101 1001010101 11111101 110101101 0101010101 1011011101 01010111001 1011010111 0101010101 1101110101 0111011111 1101011101 0110011 1011010111 1011010101 10010101001 1001110011 1110010101 11001011101 11011110101 1111111101 1101011101 11011010101 1111110111 0110111011 110101101 110100111 1101010111 1101110101 11001011101 0111011001 1101010011 001111101 0101011101 111111101 11001000111 1110101 110100101001 1001110001 110110101 1011010101 110101011 0101111 0111110101 100101011 11110101101 11110100101 010101101 1011110001 110111101 0101110101 11110010101 0101010101 11010110101 1101010011 1111110111 1101110011 1111011101 1101010101 110111101 11110111001 1101010101 0111011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 3,038 |
Words | 504 |
Sentences | 34 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 12, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10 |
Lines Amount | 66 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 330 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 71 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:32 min read
- 99 Views
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"The Pleasures of Hope (excerpt)" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 10 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/36127/the-pleasures-of-hope-%28excerpt%29>.
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