Analysis of Part of an Irregular Fragment
Helen Maria Williams 1761 (London) – 1827
Rise, winds of night! relentless tempests, rise!
Rush from the troubled clouds, and o'er me roll!
In this chill pause a deeper horror lies,
A wilder fear appals my shudd'ring soul!--
'Twas on this day,* this hour accurst,
That Nature, starting from repose,
Heard the dire shrieks of murder burst--
From infant innocence they rose,--
And shook these solemn towers!
I shudd'ring pass that fatal room,
For ages wrapt in central gloom!--
I shudd'ring pass that iron door,
Which fate perchance unlocks no more;
Death, smear'd with blood, o'er the dark portal lowers!
How fearfully my step resounds
Along these lonely bounds!--
Spare, savage blast! the taper's quiv'ring fires;
Deep in these gath'ring shades its flame expires.
Ye host of heaven! the door recedes--
It mocks my grasp--what unseen hands
Have burst its iron bands?
No mortal force this gate unbarr'd,
Where danger lives, which terrors guard--
Dread powers! its screaming hinges close
On this dire scene of impious deeds--
My feet are fix'd!--Dismay has bound
My step on this polluted ground!
But lo! the pitying moon a line of light
Athwart the horrid darkness dimly throws,
And from yon grated window chases night.
Ye visions that before me roll,
That freeze my blood, that shake my soul!
Are ye the phantoms of a dream?--
Pale spectres! are ye what ye seem?--
They glide more near!
Their forms unfold!
Fix'd are their eyes--on me they bend--
Their glaring look is cold!
And hark!--I hear
Sounds that the throbbing pulse of life suspend:
"No wild illusion cheats thy sight
With shapes that only live in night--
Mark the native glories spread
Around my bleeding brow!
The crown of Albion wreath'd my head,
When my father shook his spear,
When his banner sought the skies,
Her baffled host recoil'd with fear,
Nor turn'd their shrinking eyes.
Soon as the daring eagle springs,
To bask in heav'n's empyreal light,
The vultures ply their baleful wings,
A cloud of deep'ning colour marks their flight,
Staining the golden day:--
But see! amid the rav'nous brood
A bird of fiercer aspect soar--
The spirits of a rival race*
Hang on the noxious blast, and trace
With gloomy joy his destin'd prey;
Inflame th' ambitious wish that thirsts for blood,
And plunge his talons deep in kindred gore.
"View the stern form that hovers nigh:
Fierce rolls his dauntless eye,
In scorn of hideous death;
Till starting at a brother's* name,
Horror shrinks his glowing frame;
Locks the half-utter'd groan,
And chills the parting breath:--
Astonish'd Nature heav'd a moan!
When her affrighted eye beheld the hands
She form'd to cherish, rend her holy bands.
"Look where a royal infant+ kneels;
Shrieking, and agoniz'd with fear,
He sees the dagger pointed near
A much-lov'd brother's+ breast,
And tells an absent mother all he feels!
His eager eye he casts around,--
Where shall her guardian form be found,
On which his eager eye would rest?
On her he calls in accents wild,
And wonders why her step is slow
To save her suff'ring child!
Rob'd in the regal garb, his brother stands
In more majestic woe,
And meets the impious stroke with bosom bare,
Then fearless grasps the murd'rer's hands,
And asks the minister of hell to spare
The child, whose feeble arms sustain
His bleeding form, from cruel death.
In vain fraternal fondness pleads,
For cold is now his livid cheek,
And cold his last, expiring breath;
And now, with aspect meek,
The infant lifts its mournful eye,
And asks, with trembling voice, to die,
If death will cure his heaving heart of pain!
His heaving heart now bleeds!--
Foul tyrant! o'er the gilded hour
That beams with all the blaze of power,
Remorse shall spread her thickest shroud!
The furies in thy tortur'd ear
Shall howl, with curses deep and loud,
And wake distracting fear!
I see the ghastly spectre rise,
Whose blood is cold, whose hollow eyes
Seem from his head to start!--
With upright hair and shiv'ring heart,
Dark o'er thy midnight couch he bends,
And clasps thy shrinking frame, thy impious spirit rends."
Now his thrilling accents die--
His shape eludes my searching eye.
But who is he,* convuls'd with pain,
That writhes in every swelling vein?
Yet in so deep, so wild a groan,
A sharper anguish seems to live
Than life's expiring pang can give!--
Scheme ABABCDCDEFFGGE AXEEHIICCXHCCCDC BBJJKCCCLC CCCXCKAKAMCMCCCGNNXCG OOPQQRPRII AKKCXCCCCSCISTITUPHVPVOCUHWWCLCKAACCXA COUURXG Poetic Form Metre 111101011 11010101011 0111010101 01011111 11111101 11010101 10111101 11010011 0111010 1111101 11010101 1111101 1101111 111110011010 11111 011101 110101110 10111111010 111100101 11111011 111101 1101111 11011101 110110101 111110101 11110111 11110101 11010010111 0101010101 0111010101 11010111 11111111 11010101 1111111 1111 1101 11111111 110111 0111 1101011101 11010111 11110101 1010101 011101 011100111 1110111 1110101 01010111 111101 11010101 110111 01011101 011111111 100101 1101011 0111011 01010101 11010101 11011101 011101011111 0111010101 10111101 11111 0111001 11010101 1011101 101101 010101 01010101 1011101 1111010101 11010101 1001011 11010101 011101 0111010111 11011101 110100111 11110111 10110101 01010111 11011 1001011101 010101 01001011101 1101011 0101001111 01110101 11011101 01010101 11111101 01110101 01111 01011101 011100111 1111110111 110111 1101001010 111101110 01110101 0101101 11110101 010101 11010101 11111101 111111 1011011 11011111 0111011010101 1110101 11011101 1111111 110100101 10111101 01010111 110101111 Closest metre Iambic tetrameter Characters 4,140 Words 749 Sentences 53 Stanzas 7 Stanza Lengths 14, 16, 10, 21, 10, 38, 7 Lines Amount 116 Letters per line (avg) 28 Words per line (avg) 6 Letters per stanza (avg) 468 Words per stanza (avg) 104 Font size:Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
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"Part of an Irregular Fragment" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/17119/part-of-an-irregular-fragment>.
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