Analysis of The Unborn.
Robert Crawford 1959 (Bellshill)
Ah God! for those who are coming,
The millions who yet must be!
Thine Earth like a hive has been humming
So long with anxiety:
Such a deal of confusion and trouble,
Thousands so poor and unfed ....
They are coming to starve on the stubble
Where hosts of the ages are dead!
| Scheme | ABABCDCD |
|---|---|
| Poetic Form | Traditional rhyme |
| Metre | 11111110 0101111 111011110 1110100 1011010010 101101 1110111010 11101011 |
| Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
| Characters | 273 |
| Words | 54 |
| Sentences | 5 |
| Stanzas | 1 |
| Stanza Lengths | 8 |
| Lines Amount | 8 |
| Letters per line (avg) | 26 |
| Words per line (avg) | 7 |
| Letters per stanza (avg) | 210 |
| Words per stanza (avg) | 53 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 16 sec read
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"The Unborn." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 6 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/30794/the-unborn.>.
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