Analysis of Reflections On Having Left A Place Of Retirement
Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1772 (Ottery St Mary) – 1834 (Highgate)
Low was our pretty Cot : our tallest Rose
Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
The Sea's faint murmur. In the open air
Our Myrtles blossom'd; and across the porch
Thick Jasmins twined : the little landscape round
Was green and woody, and refresh'd the eye.
It was a spot which you might aptly call
The Valley of Seclusion ! Once I saw
(Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quiteness)
A wealthy son of Commerce saunter by,
Bristowa's citizen : methought, it calm'd
His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse
With wiser feelings : for he paus'd, and look'd
With a pleas'd sadness, and gaz'd all around,
Then eyed our Cottage, and gaz'd round again,
And sigh'd, and said, it was a Blesséd Place.
And we were bless'd. Oft with patient ear
Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note
(Viewless, or haply for a moment seen
Gleaming on sunny wings) in whisper'd tones
I said to my Belovéd, `Such, sweet Girl !
The inobtrusive song of Happiness,
Unearthly minstrelsy ! then only heard
When the Soul seeks to hear ; when all is hush'd,
And the Heart listens !'
[Image][Image][Image]But the time, when first
From that low Dell, steep up the stony Mount
I climb'd with perilous toil and reach'd the top,
Oh ! what a goodly scene ! Here the bleak mount,
The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with sheep ;
Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields ;
And river, now with bushy rocks o'er-brow'd,
Now winding bright and full, with naked banks ;
And seats, and lawns, the Abbey and the wood,
And cots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire ;
The Channel there, the Islands and white sails,
Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreless Ocean--
It seem'd like Omnipresence ! God, methought,
Had build him there a Temple : the whole World
Seem'd imag'd in its vast circumference :
No wish profan'd my overwhelméd heart.
Blest hour ! It was a luxury,--to be !
Ah ! quiet Dell ! dear Cot, and Mount sublime !
I was constrain'd to quit you. Was it right,
While my unnumber'd brethren toil'd and bled,
That I should dream away the entrusted hours
On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward heart
With feelings all too delicate for use ?
Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye
Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth :
And he that works me good with unmov'd face,
Does it but half : he chills me while he aids,
My benefactor, not my brother man !
Yet even this, this cold beneficience
Praise, praise it, O my Soul ! oft as thou scann'st
The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe !
Who sigh for Wretchedness, yet shun the Wretched,
Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies !
I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand,
Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight
Of Science, Freedom, and the Truth in Christ.
Yet oft when after honourable toil
Rests the tir'd mind, and waking loves to dream,
My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot !
Thy Jasmin and thy window-peeping Rose,
And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air.
And I shall sigh fond wishes--sweet Abode !
Ah !--had none greater ! And that all had such !
It might be so--but the time is not yet.
Speed it, O Father ! Let thy Kingdom come !
Scheme | ABXCXDEXXAEXXXDXFBXXXXXXXX XGXGXXXXXXXXDXXHX XIXXHXEXFXXADXXXXXIX XXXACXXXX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111010110101 1101010111 1101010101 0111000101 10101000101 11101011 1101000101 1101111101 0101010111 1110111 0101110101 1100111 1111010111 1101011101 1011001101 11101001101 0101110111 010111101 1100101111 11110101 1011010101 1111101111 0111100 01011101 1011111111 00110 10111 1111110101 11110010101 1101011011 0111010111 11110010101 01011101101 1101011101 0101010001 0101001101 0101010011 1101110110 11101011 1111010011 11011010 11110111 11011010011 1101110101 1101111111 11110101 111101001010 11111000101 1101110011 1101111101 1101111111 0111111011 1111111111 110011101 1101111 1111111111 01110101 111111010 100101010 111010100 111011101 1001110101 1101000101 1111011 10101010111 1101010111 1100110101 0101010111 0111110101 1111001111 1111101111 1111011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 3,120 |
Words | 544 |
Sentences | 35 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 26, 17, 20, 9 |
Lines Amount | 72 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 606 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 144 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 26, 2023
- 2:52 min read
- 241 Views
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"Reflections On Having Left A Place Of Retirement" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/34302/reflections-on-having-left-a-place-of-retirement>.
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