Analysis of BÉranger's "broken fiddle"
Eugene Field 1850 (St. Louis) – 1895 (Chicago)
There, there, poor dog, my faithful friend,
Pay you no heed unto my sorrow:
But feast to-day while yet you may,--
Who knows but we shall starve to-morrow!
"Give us a tune," the foemen cried,
In one of their profane caprices;
I bade them "No"--they frowned, and, lo!
They dashed this innocent in pieces!
This fiddle was the village pride--
The mirth of every fête enhancing;
Its wizard art set every heart
As well as every foot to dancing.
How well the bridegroom knew its voice,
As from its strings its song went gushing!
Nor long delayed the promised maid
Equipped for bridal, coy and blushing.
Why, it discoursed so merrily,
It quickly banished all dejection;
And yet, when pressed, our priest confessed
I played with pious circumspection.
And though, in patriotic song,
It was our guide, compatriot, teacher,
I never thought the foe had wrought
His fury on the helpless creature!
But there, poor dog, my faithful friend,
Pay you no heed unto my sorrow;
I prithee take this paltry cake,--
Who knows but we shall starve to-morrow!
Ah, who shall lead the Sunday choir
As this old fiddle used to do it?
Can vintage come, with this voice dumb
That used to bid a welcome to it?
It soothed the weary hours of toil,
It brought forgetfulness to debtors;
Time and again from wretched men
It struck oppression's galling fetters.
No man could hear its voice, and hate;
It stayed the teardrop at its portal;
With that dear thing I was a king
As never yet was monarch mortal!
Now has the foe--the vandal foe--
Struck from my hands their pride and glory;
There let it lie! In vengeance, I
Shall wield another weapon, gory!
And if, O countrymen, I fall,
Beside our grave let this be spoken:
"No foe of France shall ever dance
Above the heart and fiddle, broken!"
So come, poor dog, my faithful friend,
I prithee do not heed my sorrow,
But feast to-day while yet you may,
For we are like to starve to-morrow.
Scheme | aBCB debe dfxf xfxf ghxh xixi aBxB ijxj xkhk xlfl bgxg xhxh abCb |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain |
Metre | 11111101 111110110 11111111 111111110 1101011 011101010 11111101 111100010 11010101 01110011010 110111001 1111001110 1101111 111111110 11010101 011101010 1111100 1101011 011110101 11110010 0100101 11101010010 11010111 110101010 11111101 111110110 1111101 111111110 11110110 111101111 11011111 111101011 110101011 111110 10011101 1111010 11111101 11011110 11111101 11011110 11010101 111111010 11110101 110101010 01110011 0110111110 11111101 010101010 11111101 11111110 11111111 111111110 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,908 |
Words | 360 |
Sentences | 18 |
Stanzas | 13 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 52 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 113 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 26 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:48 min read
- 73 Views
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"BÉranger's "broken fiddle"" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/12912/b%C3%89ranger%27s-%22broken-fiddle%22>.
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