Analysis of To Daisies

Francis Thompson 1859 (City of Preston, Lancashire) – 1907 (London)



Ah, drops of gold in whitening flame
Burning, we know your lovely name -
Daisies, that little children pull!
Like all weak things, over the strong
Ye do not know your power for wrong,
And much abuse your feebleness.
Daisies, that little children pull,
As ye are weak, be merciful!
O hide your eyes! they are to me
Beautiful insupportably.
Or be but conscious ye are fair,
And I your loveliness could bear,
But, being fair so without art,
Ye vex the silted memories of my heart!

As a pale ghost yearning strays
With sundered gaze,
'Mid corporal presences that are
To it impalpable - such a bar
Sets you more distant than the morning-star.
Such wonder is on you, and amaze,
I look and marvel if I be
Indeed the phantom, or are ye?
The light is on your innocence
Which fell from me.
The fields ye still inhabit whence
My world-acquainted treading strays,
The country where I did commence;
And though ye shine to me so near,
So close to gross and visible sense, -
Between us lies impassable year on year.

To other time and far-off place
Belongs your beauty: silent thus,
Though to other naught you tell,
To me your ranks are rumorous
Of an ancient miracle.
Vain does my touch your petals graze,
I touch you not; and though ye blossom here,
Your roots are fast in alienated days.
Ye there are anchored, while Time's stream
Has swept me past them: your white ways
And infantile delights do seem
To look in on me like a face,
Dead and sweet, come back through dream,
With tears, because for old embrace
It has no arms.

These hands did toy,
Children, with you, when I was child,
And in each other's eyes we smiled:
Not yours, not yours the grievous-fair
Apparelling
With which you wet mine eyes; you wear,
Ah me, the garment of the grace
I wove you when I was a boy;
O mine, and not the year's your stolen Spring!
And since ye wear it,
Hide your sweet selves! I cannot bear it.
For when ye break the cloven earth
With your young laughter and endearment,
No blossomy carillon 'tis of mirth
To me; I see my slaughtered joy
Bursting its cerement.


Scheme aaBccdBefbgghh ddiiidffdfdddjdj ddxdedxdkdkdkdd lmmgcgdlxnnoxolh
Poetic Form
Metre 111101001 10111101 10110101 11111001 111111011 010111 10110101 11111100 11111111 1001 11110111 011111 11011011 1101100111 1011101 111 110010011 111101 1111010101 110111001 11010111 01010111 01111100 1111 01110101 11010101 01011101 01111111 111101001 01110100111 11010111 01110101 1110111 111111 1110100 11111101 1111011101 1111010001 11110111 11111111 01000111 11011101 1011111 11011101 1111 1111 10111111 00110111 11110101 1 11111111 11010101 11111101 1101011101 01111 111111011 1111011 111100010 1110111 11111101 1011
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,983
Words 380
Sentences 18
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 14, 16, 15, 16
Lines Amount 61
Letters per line (avg) 26
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 396
Words per stanza (avg) 95
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:55 min read
31

Francis Thompson

The Rt Rev Francis William Banahene Thompson was Bishop of Accra from 1983 to 1996. more…

All Francis Thompson poems | Francis Thompson Books

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