Analysis of Sonnet XV: Now, Round My Favour'd Grot
Mary Darby Robinson 1757 (England) – 1800 (England)
Now, round my favor'd grot let roses rise,
To strew the bank where Phaon wakes from rest;
O! happy buds! to kiss his burning breast,
And die, beneath the lustre of his eyes!
Now, let the timbrels echo to the skies,
Now damsels sprinkel cassia on his vest,
With od'rous wreaths of constant myrtle drest,
And flow'rs, deep tinted with the rainbow's dyes!
From cups of porphyry let nectar flow,
Rich as the perfume of Phoenicia's vine!
Now let his dimpling cheek with rapture glow,
While round his heart love's mystic fetters twine;
And let the Grecian Lyre its aid bestow,
In songs of triumph, to proclaim him mine!
Scheme | ABBAABBACDCDCD |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111011101 110111111 1101111101 0101010111 110110101 1110100111 111110101 011101011 1111001101 11001111 111111101 1111110101 0101011101 0111010111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 610 |
Words | 111 |
Sentences | 7 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 478 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 109 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 35 sec read
- 64 Views
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"Sonnet XV: Now, Round My Favour'd Grot" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/26797/sonnet-xv%3A-now%2C-round-my-favour%27d-grot>.
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