Analysis of Of the Death of Sir T.W. the Elder
Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.
A head where wisdom mysteries did frame,
Whose hammers beat still in that lively brain
As on a stithy where that some work of fame
Was daily wrought, to turn to Britain's gain.
A visage stern and mild, where both did grow,
Vice to contemn, in virtue to rejoice;
Amid great storms, whom grace assured so
To live upright and smile at fortune's choice.
A hand that taught what might be said in rhyme;
That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit:
A mark, the which (unparfited, for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit.
A tongue that served in foreign realms his king;
Whose courteous talk to virtue did enflame
Each noble heart; a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth by travail unto fame.
An eye whose judgment none affect could blind,
Friends to allure, and foes to reconcile;
Whose piercing look did represent a mind
With virtue fraught, reposed, void of guile.
A heart where dread was never so impress'd,
To hide the thought that might the truth advance;
In neither fortune loft, nor yet repress'd,
To swell in wealth, or yield unto mischance.
A valiant corps, where force and beauty met;
Happy, alas, too happy, but for foes!
Lived, and ran the race, that Nature set:
Of manhood's shape, where she the mould did lose.
But to the heavens that simple soul is fled,
Which left with such as covet Christ to know
Witness of faith that never shall be dead,
Sent for our health, but not received so.
Thus, for our guilt, this jewel have we lost;
The earth his bones, the heavens possess his ghost.
Scheme | ABAB CBCB DEDE FGFG HCHC IJIJ AXAE KXKX LDLDXX |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1011111101 1100101101 0101010011 1101110101 0111010011 1101101101 1101111111 1101111101 0101011111 111010101 011111011 1101011101 0111111101 1110010111 0101111 1101110111 0111010111 1100111011 1101010111 10101101101 1111010111 110101110 110110101 11011111 0111110101 1101110101 0101011101 110111101 0101110101 1001110111 101011101 111110111 11010110111 1111110111 1011110111 1110111011 11101110111 01110100111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,645 |
Words | 304 |
Sentences | 12 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6 |
Lines Amount | 38 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 146 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 34 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:32 min read
- 73 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Of the Death of Sir T.W. the Elder" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/17403/of-the-death-of-sir-t.w.-the-elder>.
Discuss this Henry Howard poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In