Analysis of A Botticelli Madonna II The Mournful Mother
O child of mine, my little Son, alas!
Beneath the sunlight of Thy gentle eyes,
Too soon, too soon, what fateful shadows rise,
Like night foretold in some sweet woodland glass?
On tender feet that scarcely bow the grass,
What stains are those of ripe pomegranate dyes?--
When on my breast Thy head in slumber lies,
What thorns are those that through my heart do pass?
And round about these crowds of haunting forms
That burn their splendor through my dimmest dreams!
O little Child, Thou Wonder too divine,
Thy precious body all my bosom warms
With mine own blood, but oftentimes it seems,
Too dearly loved,--that yet Thou art not mine.
Scheme | ABBAABBACDECDE |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111110101 010111101 111111011 110101111 1101110101 1111110101 1111110101 1111111111 0101111101 111101111 1101110101 1101011101 111111011 1101111111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 630 |
Words | 116 |
Sentences | 7 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 36 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 501 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 112 |
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Submitted on August 03, 2020
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 34 sec read
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"A Botticelli Madonna II The Mournful Mother" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 9 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/55173/a-botticelli-madonna-ii-the-mournful-mother>.
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