Analysis of The Sun Hath Twice
Henry Howard 1517 – 1547
The sun hath twice brought forth the tender green,
And clad the earth in lively lustiness;
Once have the winds the trees despoiled clean,
And now again begins their cruelness,
Since I have hid under my breast the harm
That never shall recover healthfulness.
The winter's hurt recovers with the warm;
The parched green restored is with shade;
What warmth, alas, may serve for to disarm
The frozen heart that mine in flame hath made?
What cold again is able to restore
My fresh green years that wither thus and fade?
Alas, I see nothing to hurt so sore
But time sometime reduceth a return;
Yet time my harm increaseth more and more,
And seem to have my cure always in scorn.
Strange kind of death in life that I do try,
At hand to melt, far off in flame to burn;
And like as time list to my cure apply,
So doth each place my comfort clean refuse.
Each thing alive, that sees the heaven with eye,
With cloak of night may cover and excuse
Himself from travail of the day's unrest,
Save I, alas, against all others use,
That then stir up the torment of my breast
To curse each star as causer of my fate.
And when the sun hath eke the dark repressed
And brought the day, it doth nothing abate
The travail of my endless smart and pain.
For then, as one that hath the light in hate,
I wish for night, more covertly to plain
And me withdraw from every haunted place,
Lest in my cheer my chance should 'pear too plain;
And with my mind I measure, pace by pace,
To seek that place where I myself had lost,
That day that I was tangled in that lace,
In seeming slack that knitteth ever most;
But never yet the travail of my thought
Of better state could catch a cause to boast.
For if I find that sometime that I have sought
Those stars by whom I trusted of the port,
My sails do fall, and I advance right naught,
As anchored fast; my sprites do all resort
To stand atgaas*, and sink in more and more [gazing]
The deadly harm which she doth take in sport.
Lo, if I seek, how I do find my sore.
And if I fly, I carry with me still
The venomed shaft which doth his force restore
By haste of flight. And I may plain my fill
Unto myself, unless this careful song
Print in your heart some parcel of my will.
For I, alas, in silence all too long
Of mine old hurt yet feel the wound but green.
Rue on my life, or else your cruel wrong
Shall well appear, and by my death be seen.
Scheme | ABABCBDECEFEFGFHIGIBIBJBJKJKLKLBLBMBNONOPOPQPFRFRQRQAQA |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 0111110101 01010101 11010111 01010111 1111101101 11010101 0101010101 01101111 1101111101 0101110111 1101110101 1111110101 0111101111 1111001 11111101 011111101 1111011111 1111110111 0111111101 1111110101 11011101011 1111110001 0110110101 1101011101 111101111 1111110111 0101110101 0101111001 0011110101 1111110101 1111101011 01011100101 1011111111 0111110111 111111111 1111110011 010111101 1101001111 1101110111 1111111111 1111110101 1111010111 1101111101 1110101011 0101111101 1111111111 0111110111 011111101 1111011111 101011101 1011110111 1101010111 1111110111 1111111101 1101011111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,348 |
Words | 464 |
Sentences | 15 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 55 |
Lines Amount | 55 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,834 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 462 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:19 min read
- 112 Views
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"The Sun Hath Twice" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/17418/the-sun-hath-twice>.
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