Analysis of Mad River, In The White Mountains

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807 (Portland) – 1882 (Cambridge)



TRAVELLER
Why dost thou wildly rush and roar,
Mad River, O Mad River?
Wilt thou not pause and cease to pour
Thy hurrying, headlong waters o'er
This rocky shelf forever?

What secret trouble stirs thy breast?
Why all this fret and flurry?
Dost thou not know that what is best
In this too restless world is rest
From over-work and worry?

THE RIVER
What wouldst thou in these mountains seek,
O stranger from the city?
Is it perhaps some foolish freak
Of thine, to put the words I speak
Into a plaintive ditty?

TRAVELLER
Yes; I would learn of thee thy song,
With all its flowing numbers,
And in a voice as fresh and strong
As thine is, sing it all day long,
And hear it in my slumbers.

THE RIVER
A brooklet nameless and unknown
Was I at first, resembling
A little child, that all alone
Comes venturing down the stairs of stone,
Irresolute and trembling.

Later, by wayward fancies led,
For the wide world I panted;
Out of the forest dark and dread
Across the open fields I fled,
Like one pursued and haunted.

I tossed my arms, I sang aloud,
My voice exultant blending
With thunder from the passing cloud,
The wind, the forest bent and bowed,
The rush of rain descending.

I heard the distant ocean call,
Imploring and entreating;
Drawn onward, o'er this rocky wall
I plunged, and the loud waterfall
Made answer to the greeting.

And now, beset with many ills,
A toilsome life I follow;
Compelled to carry from the hills
These logs to the impatient mills
Below there in the hollow.

Yet something ever cheers and charms
The rudeness of my labors;
Daily I water with these arms
The cattle of a hundred farms,
And have the birds for neighbors.

Men call me Mad, and well they may,
When, full of rage and trouble,
I burst my banks of sand and clay,
And sweep their wooden bridge away,
Like withered reeds or stubble.

Now go and write thy little rhyme,
As of thine own creating.
Thou seest the day is past its prime;
I can no longer waste my time;
The mills are tired of waiting.


Scheme Ababaa cdccd Aedeed Afgffg Ahihhi jxjjx kikki lelli mnmmn ogoog pqppq rirri
Poetic Form
Metre 100 11110101 1101110 11110111 110011010 1101010 11010111 1111010 11111111 01110111 1101010 010 11101101 1101010 11011101 11110111 0101010 100 11111111 1111010 00011101 11111111 011011 010 0110001 11110100 01011101 110010111 10100 10110101 1011110 11010101 01010111 1101010 11111101 1101010 11010101 01010101 0111010 11010101 01001 110101101 1100110 1101010 01011101 011110 01110101 11100101 0110010 11010101 0101110 10110111 01010101 0101110 11110111 1111010 11111101 01110101 1101110 11011101 1111010 11011111 11110111 01110110
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,920
Words 366
Sentences 18
Stanzas 12
Stanza Lengths 6, 5, 6, 6, 6, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5
Lines Amount 64
Letters per line (avg) 24
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 128
Words per stanza (avg) 30
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 25, 2023

1:50 min read
160

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an American poet and educator whose works include "Paul Revere's Ride", The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. more…

All Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poems | Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Books

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