Analysis of Peter Quince at the Clavier
Wallace Stevens 1879 (Reading) – 1955 (Hartford)
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,
Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,
Is music. It is like the strain
Waked in the elders by Susanna;
Of a green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in her still garden, while
The red-eyed elders, watching, felt
The basses of their beings throb
In witching chords, and their thin blood
Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.
In the green water, clear and warm,
Susanna lay.
She searched
The touch of springs,
And found
Concealed imaginings.
She sighed,
For so much melody.
Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves,
The dew
Of old devotions.
She walked upon the grass,
Still quavering.
The winds were like her maids,
On timid feet,
Fetching her woven scarves,
Yet wavering.
A breath upon her hand
Muted the night.
She turned --
A cymbal crashed,
Amid roaring horns.
Soon, with a noise like tambourines,
Came her attendant Byzantines.
They wondered why Susanna cried
Against the elders by her side;
And as they whispered, the refrain
Was like a willow swept by rain.
Anon, their lamps' uplifted flame
Revealed Susanna and her shame.
And then, the simpering Byzantines
Fled, with a noise like tambourines.
Beauty is momentary in the mind --
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.
The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
So gardens die, their meek breath scenting
The cowl of winter, done repenting.
So maidens die, to the auroral
Celebration of a maiden's choral.
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
Left only Death's ironic scraping.
Now, in its immortality, it plays
On the clear viol of her memory,
And makes a constant sacrament of praise.
Scheme | AXBCXB DEX FXX XXE FXXGCAHI XXXXBA XJXXXJ XXXXX AA HH EE KK AA XLL XJJDJLL GJJMIM |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11110111 11010111 111010101 10110111 01111111 101101001 10111101 11011101 100101010 10110101 11001101 01110101 01011101 01010111 1111 00110101 0101 11 0111 01 011 11 111100 010111 001 11010 110101 01 111 110101 1100 010101 1101 100101 1100 010101 1001 11 0101 01101 110111 100101 11010101 01010101 01110001 1101111 1111001 01010001 01011 110111 101100001 010101010 100111010 0101010101 110101110 01100010 11011111 011101010 110110010 01010110 11010101 111101010 110101010 101010011 101110100 0101010011 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,931 |
Words | 339 |
Sentences | 24 |
Stanzas | 16 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 3, 3, 3, 8, 6, 6, 5, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 7, 6 |
Lines Amount | 66 |
Letters per line (avg) | 23 |
Words per line (avg) | 5 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 93 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 21 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 31, 2023
- 1:43 min read
- 175 Views
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"Peter Quince at the Clavier" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/37902/peter-quince-at-the-clavier>.
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