Analysis of Insomnia
Robert William Service 1874 – 1958
Heigh ho! to sleep I vainly try;
Since twelve I haven't closed an eye,
And now it's three, and as I lie,
From Notre Dame to St. Denis
The bells of Paris chime to me;
"You're young," they say, "and strong and free."
I do not turn with sighs and groans
To ease my limbs, to rest my bones,
As if my bed were stuffed with stones,
No peevish murmur tips my tongue --
Ah no! for every sound upflung
Says: "Lad, you're free and strong and young."
And so beneath the sheet's caress
My body purrs with happiness;
Joy bubbles in my veins. . . . Ah yes,
My very blood that leaps along
Is chiming in a joyous song,
Because I'm young and free and strong.
Maybe it is the springtide. I am so happy I am afraid.
The sense of living fills me with exultation. I want to sing,
to dance; I am dithyrambic with delight.
I think the moon must be to blame:
It fills the room with fairy flame;
It paints the wall, it seems to pour
A dappled flood upon the floor.
I rise and through the window stare . . .
Ye gods! how marvelously fair!
From Montrouge to the Martyr's Hill,
A silver city rapt and still;
Dim, drowsy deeps of opal haze,
And spire and dome in diamond blaze;
The little lisping leaves of spring
Like sequins softly glimmering;
Each roof a plaque of argent sheen,
A gauzy gulf the space between;
Each chimney-top a thing of grace,
Where merry moonbeams prank and chase;
And all that sordid was and mean,
Just Beauty, deathless and serene.
O magic city of a dream!
From glory unto glory gleam;
And I will gaze and pity those
Who on their pillows drowse and doze . . .
And as I've nothing else to do,
Of tea I'll make a rousing brew,
And coax my pipes until they croon,
And chant a ditty to the moon.
There! my tea is black and strong. Inspiration comes with
every sip. Now for the moon.
The moon peeped out behind the hill
As yellow as an apricot;
Then up and up it climbed until
Into the sky it fairly got;
The sky was vast and violet;
The poor moon seemed to faint in fright,
And pale it grew and paler yet,
Like fine old silver, rinsed and bright.
And yet it climbed so bravely on
Until it mounted heaven-high;
Then earthward it serenely shone,
A silver sovereign of the sky,
A bland sultana of the night,
Surveying realms of lily light.
Scheme | AAAXBB CCCDDD EXEFFF XGH IIJJKKLLMMGGNNOONN PPQQRRSS XS LTLTXHXHXAXAHH |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11111101 11110111 01110111 11011110 01110111 11110101 11111101 11111111 11110111 11010111 11110011 11110101 01010101 11011100 11001111 11011101 1100101 01110101 101101111101101 0111011111111 11111101 11011111 11011101 11011111 0110101 11010101 11110001 111011 01010101 11011101 01010101 0101111 11010100 11011101 0110101 11010111 1101101 01110101 1101001 11010101 11010101 01110101 11110101 01110111 11110101 01110111 01010101 111110101011 10011101 01110101 1101110 11011101 01011101 01110100 01111101 0111011 11110101 01111101 01110101 11101001 01010101 011101 01011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,177 |
Words | 429 |
Sentences | 33 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 6, 6, 3, 18, 8, 2, 14 |
Lines Amount | 63 |
Letters per line (avg) | 27 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 212 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 54 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 26, 2023
- 2:10 min read
- 59 Views
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"Insomnia" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/32188/insomnia>.
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