Analysis of Call Me Away

Anne Brontë 1820 (Thornton, West Yorkshire) – 1849 (Scarborough, North Yorkshire)



Call me away; there's nothing here,
            That wins my soul to stay;
Then let me leave this prospect drear,
            And hasten far away.
To our beloved land I'll flee,
            Our land of thought and soul,
Where I have roved so oft with thee,
            Beyond the world's control.

I'll sit and watch those ancient trees,
            Those Scotch firs dark and high;
I'll listen to the eerie breeze,
            Among their branches sigh.

The glorious moon shines far above;
            How soft her radiance falls,
On snowy heights, and rock, and grove;
            And yonder palace walls!

Who stands beneath yon fir trees high?
            A youth both slight and fair,
Whose bright and restless azure eye
            Proclaims him known to care,
Though fair that brow, it is not smooth;
Though small those features, yet in sooth
            Stern passion has been there.

Now on the peaceful moon are fixed
            Those eyes so glistening bright,
But trembling teardrops hang betwixt,
            And dim the blessed light.

Though late the hour, and keen the blast,
            That whistles round him now,
Those raven locks are backward cast,
            To cool his burning brow.

His hands above his heaving breast
            Are clasped in agony --
'O Father! Father! let me rest!
            And call my soul to thee!

I know 'tis weakness thus to pray;
            But all this cankering care --
This doubt tormenting night and day
            Is more than I can bear!

With none to comfort, none to guide
            And none to strengthen me.
Since thou my only friend hast died --
            I've pined to follow thee!
Since thou hast died! And did he live
What comfort could his counsel give --
            To one forlorn like me?

Would he my Idol's form adore --
            Her soul, her glance, her tone?
And say, "Forget for ever more
            Her kindred and thine own;
Let dreams of her thy peace destroy,
Leave every other hope and joy
            And live for her alone"?'

He starts, he smiles, and dries the tears,
            Still glistening on his cheek,
The lady of his soul appears,
            And hark! I hear her speak --

'Aye, dry thy tears; thou wilt not weep --
            While I am by thy side --
Our foes all day their watch may keep
            But cannot thus divide
Such hearts as ours; and we tonight
Together in the clear moon's light
            Their malice will deride.

No fear our present bliss shall blast
            And sorrow we'll defy.
Do thou forget the dreary past,
            The dreadful future I.'

Forget it? Yes, while thou art by
            I think of nought but thee,
'Tis only when thou art not nigh
            Remembrance tortures me.

But such a lofty soul to find,
            And such a heart as thine,
In such a glorious form enshrined
            And still to call thee mine --
Would be for earth too great a bliss,
Without a taint of woe like this,
            Then why should I repine?


Scheme ABABCDCD EFEF XGXG FHFHIIH JKJK LMLM NCNC BHBH OCOCXXC PQPQRRQ XSXS TOTOKKO LFLF FCFC UVUVWWM
Poetic Form
Metre 11011101 111111 11111101 010101 11001111 1011101 11111111 010101 11011101 111101 11010101 011101 010011101 1101001 11010101 010101 11011111 011101 11010101 011111 11111111 11110101 110111 11010111 1111001 11001101 01011 110100101 110111 11011101 111101 11011101 110100 11010111 011111 11110111 11111 1110101 111111 11110111 011101 11110111 111101 11110111 11011101 110111 1111101 010101 01011101 010011 11101101 110010101 011001 11110101 1100111 01011101 011101 11111111 111111 101111111 110101 111100101 01000111 110101 111010111 010101 11010101 010101 01111111 111111 11011111 010101 11010111 010111 010100101 011111 11111101 01011111 11111
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,909
Words 482
Sentences 27
Stanzas 15
Stanza Lengths 8, 4, 4, 7, 4, 4, 4, 4, 7, 7, 4, 7, 4, 4, 7
Lines Amount 79
Letters per line (avg) 25
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 130
Words per stanza (avg) 32
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on May 04, 2023

2:26 min read
149

Anne Brontë

Anne Brontë was a British novelist and poet, the youngest member of the Brontë literary family. more…

All Anne Brontë poems | Anne Brontë Books

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