Analysis of The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
Thomas Hood 1799 (London) – 1845 (London)
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere
The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind breathes from a chillier clime;—
That forth I fared, on one of those still eves,
Touch'd with the dewy sadness of the time,
To think how the bright months had spent their prime,
So that, wherever I address'd my way,
I seem'd to track the melancholy feet
Of him that is the Father of Decay,
And spoils at once the sour weed and the sweet;—
Wherefore regretfully I made retreat
To some unwasted regions of my brain,
Charm'd with the light of summer and the heat,
And bade that bounteous season bloom again,
And sprout fresh flowers in mine own domain.
It was a shady and sequester'd scene,
Like those famed gardens of Boccaccio,
Planted with his own laurels evergreen,
And roses that for endless summer blow;
And there were fountain springs to overflow
Their marble basins,—and cool green arcades
Of tall o'erarching sycamores, to throw
Athwart the dappled path their dancing shades,—
With timid coneys cropping the green blades.
And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish,
Argent and gold; and some of Tyrian skin,
Some crimson-barr'd;—and ever at a wish
They rose obsequious till the wave grew thin
As glass upon their backs, and then dived in,
Quenching their ardent scales in watery gloom;
Whilst others with fresh hues row'd forth to win
My changeable regard,—for so we doom
Things born of thought to vanish or to bloom.
And there were many birds of many dyes,
From tree to tree still faring to and fro,
And stately peacocks with their splendid eyes,
And gorgeous pheasants with their golden glow,
Like Iris just bedabbled in her bow,
Beside some vocalists, without a name,
That oft on fairy errands come and go,
With accents magical;—and all were tame,
And peckled at my hand where'er I came.
And for my sylvan company, in lieu
Of Pampinea with her lively peers,
Sate Queen Titania with her pretty crew,
All in their liveries quaint, with elfin gears,
For she was gracious to my childish years,
And made me free of her enchanted round;
Wherefore this dreamy scene she still endears,
And plants her court upon a verdant mound,
Fenced with umbrageous woods and groves profound.
'Ah me,' she cries, 'was ever moonlight seen
So clear and tender for our midnight trips?
Go some one forth, and with a trump convene
My lieges all!'—Away the goblin skips
A pace or two apart, and deftly strips
The ruddy skin from a sweet rose's cheek,
Then blows the shuddering leaf between his lips,
Making it utter forth a shrill small shriek,
Like a fray'd bird in the gray owlet's beak.
And lo! upon my fix'd delighted ken
Appear'd the loyal Fays.—Some by degrees
Crept from the primrose buds that open'd then,
Ana some from bell-shaped blossoms like the bees,
Some from the dewy meads, and rushy leas,
Flew up like chafers when the rustics pass;
Some from the rivers, others from tall trees
Dropp'd, like shed blossoms, silent to the grass,
Spirits and elfins small, of every class.
Peri and Pixy, and quaint Puck the Antic,
Brought Robin Goodfellow, that merry swain;
And stealthy Mab, queen of old realms romantic,
Came too, from distance, in her tiny wain,
Fresh dripping from a cloud—some bloomy rain,
Then circling the bright Moon, had wash'd her car,
And still bedew'd it with a various stain:
Lastly came Ariel, shooting from a star,
Who bears all fairy embassies afar.
But Oberon, that night elsewhere exiled,
Was absent, whether some distemper'd spleen
Kept him and his fair mate unreconciled,
Or warfare with the Gnome (whose race had been
Sometime obnoxious), kept him from his queen,
And made her now peruse the starry skies
Prophetical, with such an absent mien;
Howbeit, the tears stole often to her eyes,
And oft the Moon was incensed with her sighs—
Which made the elves sport drearily, and soon
Their hushing dances languish'd to a stand,
Like midnight leaves, when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
All on their drooping stems they sink unfann'd,—
So into silence droop'd the fairy band,
To see their empress dear so pale and still,
Scheme | ABABBCBCC DEDEEFEGF HBHIIJIJJ KLKLLCLCC MIMIXCICC NONOOPBPP HQHQQRQRR GSGSSTSTT UFUFFVFVV WHWLHMHMM XYXEYX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1011010101 101110101 1111010101 0111110001 1101000101 00111101001 1111111111 1101010101 1110111111 1101010111 111101001 1111010101 01110101001 101001101 11110111 1101110001 011110101 0111001101 1101000101 1111011 101111010 0101110101 010101110 1101001101 111111 010111101 110110011 0101011011 100101111 1101010101 11010010111 1101110110 10110101001 1101111111 1100011111 1111110111 0101011101 1111110101 010111101 0101011101 11011001 01110101 1111010101 1101000101 011111011 0111010001 1110101 1101010101 101111101 1111011101 0111100101 11101111 0101010101 11110101 111111011 1101011011 1111010101 111010101 0111010101 0101101101 11010010111 1011010111 101100111 0101110101 0101011101 110111101 10111110101 110101011 11111011 1101010111 1111010101 1001111001 101011010 110101101 01011111010 1111000101 110101111 11000111101 0111101001 10110010101 1111010001 1101111 11010111 110111010 111011111 101011111 0101010101 1111101 101110101 010111101 11011101 111010101 111110101 111101111 1011010101 1111011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,204 |
Words | 748 |
Sentences | 13 |
Stanzas | 11 |
Stanza Lengths | 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 6 |
Lines Amount | 96 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 298 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 66 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 20, 2023
- 3:50 min read
- 52 Views
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"The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/36701/the-plea-of-the-midsummer-fairies>.
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