Analysis of Author's Apology For His Book
John Bunyan 1628 (Elstow, Bedfordshire) – 1688 (London)
WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand
Thus for to write, I did not understand
That I at all should make a little book
In such a mode: nay, I had undertook
To make another; which, when almost done,
Before I was aware I this begun.
And thus it was: I, writing of the way
And race of saints in this our gospel-day,
Fell suddenly into an allegory
About their journey, and the way to glory,
In more than twenty things which I set down
This done, I twenty more had in my crown,
And they again began to multiply,
Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.
Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,
I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last
Should prove ad infinitum, I and eat out
The book that I already am about.
Well, so I did; but yet I did not think
To show to all the world my pen and ink
In such a mode; I only thought to make
I knew not what: nor did I undertake
Thereby to please my neighbor; no, not I;
I did it my own self to gratify.
Neither did I but vacant seasons spend
In this my scribble; nor did I intend
But to divert myself, in doing this,
From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss.
Thus I set pen to paper with delight,
And quickly had my thoughts in black and white;
For having now my method by the end,
Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penned
It down; until it came at last to be,
For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.
Well, when I had thus put mine ends together
I show'd them others, that I might see whether
They would condemn them, or them justify:
And some said, let them live; some, let them die:
Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so:
Some said, It might do good; others said, No.
Now was I in a strait, and did not see
Which was the best thing to be done by me:
At last I thought, Since ye are thus divided,
I print it will; and so the case decided.
For, thought I, some I see would have it done,
Though others in that channel do not run:
To prove, then, who advised for the best,
Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.
I further thought, if now I did deny
Those that would have it, thus to gratify;
I did not know, but hinder them I might
Of that which would to them be great delight.
For those which were not for its coming forth,
I said to them, Offend you, I am loath;
Yet since your brethren pleased with it be,
Forbear to judge, till you do further see.
If that thou wilt not read, let it alone;
Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone.
Yea, that I might them better palliate,
I did too with them thus expostulate:
May I not write in such a style as this?
In such a method too, and yet not miss
My end-thy good? Why may it not be done?
Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.
Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops
Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops,
Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,
But treasures up the fruit they yield together;
Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit
None can distinguish this from that; they suit
Her well when hungry; but if she be full,
She spews out both, and makes their blessing null.
You see the ways the fisherman doth take
To catch the fish; what engines doth he make!
Behold how he engageth all his wits;
Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets:
Yet fish there be, that neither hook nor line,
Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine:
They must be groped for, and be tickled too,
Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do.
How does the fowler seek to catch his game
By divers means! all which one cannot name.
His guns, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and bell:
He creeps, he goes, he stands; yea, who can tell
Of all his postures? yet there's none of these
Will make him master of what fowls he please.
Yea, he must pipe and whistle, to catch this;
Yet if he does so, that bird he will miss.
If that a pearl may in toad's head dwell,
And may be found too in an oyster-shell;
If things that promise nothing, do contain
What better is than gold; who will disdain,
That have an inkling to of it, there to look,
That they may find it. Now my little book,
(Though void of all these paintings that may make
It with this or the other man to take,)
Is not without those things that do excel
What do in brave but empty notions dwell.
Scheme | AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH II JJ KK GG LL MM NN LL EE OO GG PP EE XX CC QQ GG NN XX EE RR AA MM CC SS OO TT XX KK XX UU VV WW XX YY MM XX ZZ BB KK XX |
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Poetic Form | Couplet |
Metre | 1101111101 111111101 1111110101 010111101 110101111 0111011101 0111110101 01110110101 1100011100 01110001110 0111011111 1111011011 010101110 11110111011 1111111111 1111011111 11101001011 0111010101 1111111111 1111011101 0101110111 111111110 1111110111 111111110 1011110101 0111011101 110110101 111111101 1111110101 0101110101 1101110101 1111110111 1101111111 1101010111 11111111010 11110111110 110111110 0111111111 1111110111 1111111011 1110010111 1101111111 11111111010 1111010110 1111111111 1100110111 111101101 1111111101 1101111101 111111110 1111110111 1111111101 1110111101 1111011111 111101111 111111101 1111111101 1101111101 11111101 1111111 1111010111 0101010111 1111111111 1111010111 1111111101 1101011101 1111011110 11010111010 11111011 1101011111 0111011111 1111011101 110101011 1101110111 01111111 1011110101 1111110111 1111110111 1111101101 1111111011 1101011111 1101111101 1111111101 1111111111 1111011111 1111011111 1111010111 1111111111 110110111 0111101101 1111010101 1101111101 11110111111 1111111101 1111110111 1111010111 1101111101 1101110101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,118 |
Words | 844 |
Sentences | 27 |
Stanzas | 49 |
Stanza Lengths | 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2 |
Lines Amount | 98 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 65 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 17 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on May 02, 2023
- 4:15 min read
- 150 Views
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"Author's Apology For His Book" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/22115/author%27s-apology-for-his-book>.
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