Analysis of The Two Rivers
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807 (Portland) – 1882 (Cambridge)
Slowly the hour-hand of the clock moves round;
So slowly that no human eye hath power
To see it move! Slowly in shine or shower
The painted ship above it, homeward bound,
Sails, but seems motionless, as if aground;
Yet both arrive at last; and in his tower
The slumberous watchman wakes and strikes the hour,
A mellow, measured, melancholy sound.
Midnight! the outpost of advancing day!
The frontier town and citadel of night!
The watershed of Time, from which the streams
Of Yesterday and To-morrow take their way,
One to the land of promise and of light,
One to the land of darkness and of dreams!
II.
O River of Yesterday, with current swift
Through chasms descending, and soon lost to sight,
I do not care to follow in their flight
The faded leaves, that on thy bosom drift!
O River of To-morrow, I uplift
Mine eyes, and thee I follow, as the night
Wanes into morning, and the dawning light
Broadens, and all the shadows fade and shift!
I follow, follow, where thy waters run
Through unfrequented, unfamiliar fields,
Fragrant with flowers and musical with song;
Still follow, follow; sure to meet the sun,
And confident, that what the future yields
Will be the right, unless myself be wrong.
III.
Yet not in vain, O River of Yesterday,
Through chasms of darkness to the deep descending,
I heard thee sobbing in the rain, and blending
Thy voice with other voices far away.
I called to thee, and yet thou wouldst not stay,
But turbulent, and with thyself contending,
And torrent-like thy force on pebbles spending,
Thou wouldst not listen to a poet's lay.
Thoughts, like a loud and sudden rush of wings,
Regrets and recollections of things past,
With hints and prophecies of things to be,
And inspirations, which, could they be things,
And stay with us, and we could hold them fast,
Were our good angels,--these I owe to thee.
IV.
And thou, O River of To-morrow, flowing
Between thy narrow adamantine walls,
But beautiful, and white with waterfalls,
And wreaths of mist, like hands the pathway showing;
I hear the trumpets of the morning blowing,
I hear thy mighty voice, that calls and calls,
And see, as Ossian saw in Morven's halls,
Mysterious phantoms, coming, beckoning, going!
It is the mystery of the unknown
That fascinates us; we are children still,
Wayward and wistful; with one hand we cling
To the familiar things we call our own,
And with the other, resolute of will,
Grope in the dark for what the day will bring.
Scheme | ABBAABBACDECDE FGDDGGDDGHIJHIJ FCKKCCKKCLMNLMN XKOOKKOOKPQKPQK |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 10010110111 11011101110 11111001110 0101011101 1111001101 11011100110 0110101010 010101001 10110101 001101011 010111101 1100110111 1101110011 1101110011 1 1101101101 1101001111 1111110011 0101111101 1101110110 1101110101 1011000101 100101101 1101011101 110101 10110010011 1101011101 0100110101 110101111 1 1101110110 11110101010 11110001010 1111010101 1111011111 1100011010 01011111010 1111010101 1101010111 010010111 1101001111 001011111 0111011111 01011011111 1 01110111010 0111011 110001110 0111110110 11010101010 1111011101 01111011 0100101010010 1101001001 110111101 1001011111 10010111101 010101011 1001110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,382 |
Words | 431 |
Sentences | 18 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 14, 15, 15, 15 |
Lines Amount | 59 |
Letters per line (avg) | 32 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 476 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 107 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:10 min read
- 106 Views
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"The Two Rivers" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/18951/the-two-rivers>.
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