Analysis of Upon The Hill And Grove At Bill-borow
To the Lord Fairfax.
See how the arched Earth does here
Rise in a perfect Hemisphere!
The stiffest Compass could not strike
A line more circular and like;
Nor softest Pensel draw a Brow.
So equal as this Hill does bow.
It seems as for a Model laid,
And that the World by it was made.
Here learn ye Mountains more unjust,
Which to abrupter greatness thrust,
That do with your hook-shoulder'd height
The Earth deform and Heaven frght.
For whose excrescence ill design'd,
Nature must a new Center find,
Learn here those humble steps to tread,
Which to securer Glory lead.
See what a soft access and wide
Lyes open to its grassy side;
Nor with the rugged path deterrs
The feet of breathless Travellers.
See then how courteous it ascends,
And all the way ir rises bends;
Nor for it self the height does gain,
But only strives to raise the Plain.
Yet thus it all the field commands,
And in unenvy'd Greatness stands,
Discerning furthe then the Cliff
Of Heaven-daring Teneriff.
How glad the weary Seamen hast
When they salute it from the Mast!
By Night the Northern Star their way
Directs, and this no less by Day.
Upon its crest this Mountain grave
A Plum of aged Trees does wave.
No hostile hand durst ere invade
With impious Steel the sacred Shade.
For something alwaies did appear
Of the Great Masters terrour there:
And Men could hear his Armour still
Ratling through all the Grove and Hill.
Fear of the Master, and respect
Of the great Nymph did it protect;
Vera the Nymph that him inspir'd,
To whom he often here retir'd,
And on these Okes ingrav'd her Name;
Such Wounds alone these Woods became:
But ere he well the Barks could part
'Twas writ already in their Heart.
For they ('tis credible) have sense,
As we, of Love and Reverence,
And underneath the Courser Rind
The Genius of the house do bind.
Hence they successes seem to know,
And in their Lord's advancement grow;
But in no Memory were seen
As under this so streight and green.
Yet now no further strive to shoot,
Contented if they fix their Root.
Nor to the winds uncertain gust,
Their prudent Heads too far intrust.
Onely sometimes a flutt'ring Breez
Discourses with the breathing Trees;
Which in their modest Whispers name
Those Acts that swell'd the Cheek of Fame.
Much other Groves, say they, then these
And other Hills him once did please.
Through Groves of Pikes he thunder'd then,
And Mountains rais'd of dying Men.
For all the Civick Garlands due
To him our Branches are but few.
Nor are our Trunks enow to bear
The Trophees of one fertile Year.
'Tis true, the Trees nor ever spoke
More certain Oracles in Oak.
But Peace (if you his favour prize)
That Courage its own Praises flies.
Therefore to your obscurer Seats
From his own Brightness he retreats:
Nor he the Hills without the Groves,
Nor Height but with Retirement loves.
Scheme | A XBCCDDEE FFXEGGHH IIAXJJKK LLMMNNOO PPEEBQRR SSXXTTUU XXGGVVWW XXFEAYTT YYZZ1 1 QB 2 2 3 3 4 4 XX |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1011 1101111 1000110 01010111 01110001 1101101 11011111 11110101 01011111 11110101 111101 11111101 0110101 111101 10101101 11110111 111101 1101101 11011101 1101011 01110100 111100101 01011101 11110111 11011101 11110101 001101 0101101 110101 11010101 11011101 11010111 01011111 01111101 0111111 11011101 101010101 1101101 1011011 01111101 1110101 11010001 10111101 100111010 11110101 0111101 11011101 11110111 11010011 11110011 11110100 0010101 01010111 11010111 00110101 10110001 11011101 11110111 01011111 11010101 1101111 101011 01010101 10110101 11110111 11011111 01011111 11111101 01011101 110111 111010111 11101111 0111101 11011101 11010001 1111111 11011101 11111 11110101 11010101 111101001 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,724 |
Words | 505 |
Sentences | 29 |
Stanzas | 11 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8 |
Lines Amount | 81 |
Letters per line (avg) | 27 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 201 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 46 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 27, 2023
- 2:35 min read
- 126 Views
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