Analysis of Père-la-Chaise
Francis William Lauderdale Adams 1862 – 1893
I STOOD in Père-la-Chaise. The putrid City,
Paris, the harlot of the nations, lay,
The bug-bright thing that knows not love nor pity,
Flashing her bare shame to the summer's day.
Here where I stand, they slew you, brothers, whom
Hell's wrongs unutterable had made as mad.
The rifle shots re-echoed in his tomb,
The gilded scoundrel's who had been so glad.
O Morny, O blood-sucker of thy race —
O brain, O hand that wrought out empire that
The lust in one for power, for tinsel place,
Might rest; one lecher's hungry heart grow fat —
Is it for nothing, now and evermore,
O you whose sin in life had death in ease,
The murder of your victims beats the door
Wherein your careless carrion lies at peace?
Scheme | ABABCDCDEFEFGHGI |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 110111101010 1001010101 01111111110 1001110101 1111111101 1111111 0101110011 010111111 111110111 11111111001 01011101101 111110111 111101010 1111011101 0101110101 01110100111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 704 |
Words | 132 |
Sentences | 6 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 16 |
Lines Amount | 16 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 537 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 129 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 40 sec read
- 65 Views
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"Père-la-Chaise" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/14041/p%C3%A8re-la-chaise>.
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