Analysis of Fuel
Lola Ridge 1873 – 1941
What of the silence of the keys
And silvery hands? The iron sings…
Though bows lie broken on the strings,
The fly-wheels turn eternally…
Bring fuel - drive the fires high…
Throw all this artist-lumber in
And foolish dreams of making things…
(Ten million men are called to die.)
As for the common men apart,
Who sweat to keep their common breath,
And have no hour for books or art -
What dreams have these to hide from death!
| Scheme | XAAX BXAB CDCD |
|---|---|
| Poetic Form | Quatrain (33%) |
| Metre | 11010101 010010101 11110101 01110100 11010101 11110100 01011101 11011111 11010101 11111101 011101111 11111111 |
| Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
| Characters | 430 |
| Words | 82 |
| Sentences | 4 |
| Stanzas | 3 |
| Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4 |
| Lines Amount | 12 |
| Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
| Words per line (avg) | 7 |
| Letters per stanza (avg) | 110 |
| Words per stanza (avg) | 26 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 08, 2023
- 24 sec read
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"Fuel" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/25902/fuel>.
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