Analysis of August
Algernon Charles Swinburne 1837 (London) – 1909 (London)
THERE WERE four apples on the bough,
Half gold half red, that one might know
The blood was ripe inside the core;
The colour of the leaves was more
Like stems of yellow corn that grow
Through all the gold June meadow’s floor.
The warm smell of the fruit was good
To feed on, and the split green wood,
With all its bearded lips and stains
Of mosses in the cloven veins,
Most pleasant, if one lay or stood
In sunshine or in happy rains.
There were four apples on the tree,
Red stained through gold, that all might see
The sun went warm from core to rind;
The green leaves made the summer blind
In that soft place they kept for me
With golden apples shut behind.
The leaves caught gold across the sun,
And where the bluest air begun,
Thirsted for song to help the heat;
As I to feel my lady’s feet
Draw close before the day were done;
Both lips grew dry with dreams of it.
In the mute August afternoon
They trembled to some undertune
Of music in the silver air;
Great pleasure was it to be there
Till green turned duskier and the moon
Coloured the corn-sheaves like gold hair.
That August time it was delight
To watch the red moons wane to white
’Twixt grey seamed stems of apple-trees;
A sense of heavy harmonies
Grew on the growth of patient night,
More sweet than shapen music is.
But some three hours before the moon
The air, still eager from the noon,
Flagged after heat, not wholly dead;
Against the stem I leant my head;
The colour soothed me like a tune,
Green leaves all round the gold and red.
I lay there till the warm smell grew
More sharp, when flecks of yellow dew
Between the round ripe leaves had blurred
The rind with stain and wet; I heard
A wind that blew and breathed and blew,
Too weak to alter its one word.
The wet leaves next the gentle fruit
Felt smoother, and the brown tree-root
Felt the mould warmer: I too felt
(As water feels the slow gold melt
Right through it when the day burns mute)
The peace of time wherein love dwelt.
There were four apples on the tree,
Gold stained on red that all might see
The sweet blood filled them to the core:
The colour of her hair is more
Like stems of fair faint gold, that be
Mown from the harvest’s middle floor.
Scheme | xabbab ccddcd Eeffef gghhgx iajjij kkllkx iimmim nnoono ppqqpq Eebbeb |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Etheree (28%) Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 10110101 11111111 01110101 0110111 11110111 1101111 01110111 11100111 11110101 1100011 11011111 0110101 10110101 11111111 01111111 01110101 01111111 11010101 01110101 01010101 1111101 1111111 11010101 11111111 0011001 110111 11000101 11011111 1111001 10011111 11011101 11011111 11111101 01110100 11011101 1111101 111100101 01110101 11011101 010111011 0111101 11110101 11110111 11111101 01011111 01110111 01110101 11110111 01110101 11000111 10110111 11010111 11110111 01110111 10110101 11111111 01111101 0110111 11111111 11010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,131 |
Words | 419 |
Sentences | 11 |
Stanzas | 10 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6 |
Lines Amount | 60 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 171 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 42 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 19, 2023
- 2:05 min read
- 129 Views
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"August" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/1275/august>.
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