Analysis of Growing Old
Robert William Service 1874 – 1958
Somehow the skies don't seem so blue
As they used to be;
Blossoms have a fainter hue,
Grass less green I see.
There's no twinkle in a star,
Dawns don't seem so gold . . .
Yet, of course, I know they are:
Guess I'm growing old.
Somehow sunshine seems less bright,
Birds less gladly sing;
Moons don't thrill me with delight,
There's no kick in Spring.
Hills are steeper now and I'm
Sensitive to cold;
Lines are not so keen to rhyme . . .
Gosh! I'm growing old.
Yet in spite of failing things
I've no cause to grieve;
Age with all its ailing brings
Blessings, I believe:
Kindo' gentles up the mind
As the hope we hold
That with loving we will find
Friendliness in human kind,
Grace in growing old.
Scheme | ABABCDCD EFEFGDGD HIHIJDJJD |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1011111 11111 1010101 11111 1110001 11111 1111111 11101 11111 11101 1111101 11101 1110101 10011 1111111 11101 1011101 11111 1111101 10101 110101 10111 1110111 1000101 10101 |
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 774 |
Words | 130 |
Sentences | 13 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 9 |
Lines Amount | 25 |
Letters per line (avg) | 21 |
Words per line (avg) | 5 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 175 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 45 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 19, 2023
- 41 sec read
- 200 Views
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"Growing Old" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/32159/growing-old>.
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