Analysis of Leaves Of Grass. A Carol Of Harvest For 1867
A SONG of the good green grass!
A song no more of the city streets;
A song of farms--a song of the soil of fields.
A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers
handle the pitch-fork;
A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk'd maize.
For the lands, and for these passionate days, and for myself,
Now I awhile return to thee, O soil of Autumn fields,
Reclining on thy breast, giving myself to thee,
Answering the pulses of thy sane and equable heart,
Tuning a verse for thee. 10
O Earth, that hast no voice, confide to me a voice!
O harvest of my lands! O boundless summer growths!
O lavish, brown, parturient earth! O infinite, teeming womb!
A verse to seek, to see, to narrate thee.
Ever upon this stage,
Is acted God's calm, annual drama,
Gorgeous processions, songs of birds,
Sunrise, that fullest feeds and freshens most the soul,
The heaving sea, the waves upon the shore, the musical, strong waves,
The woods, the stalwart trees, the slender, tapering trees, 20
The flowers, the grass, the lilliput, countless armies of the grass,
The heat, the showers, the measureless pasturages,
The scenery of the snows, the winds' free orchestra,
The stretching, light-hung roof of clouds--the clear cerulean, and
the bulging, silvery fringes,
The high dilating stars, the placid, beckoning stars,
The moving flocks and herds, the plains and emerald meadows,
The shows of all the varied lands, and all the growths and products.
Fecund America! To-day,
Thou art all over set in births and joys!
Thou groan'st with riches! thy wealth clothes thee as with a swathing
garment! 30
Thou laughest loud with ache of great possessions!
A myriad-twining life, like interlacing vines, binds all thy vast
demesne!
As some huge ship, freighted to water's edge, thou ridest into port!
As rain falls from the heaven, and vapors rise from earth, so have
the precious values fallen upon thee, and risen out of thee!
Thou envy of the globe! thou miracle!
Thou, bathed, choked, swimming in plenty!
Thou lucky Mistress of the tranquil barns!
Thou Prairie Dame that sittest in the middle, and lookest out upon
thy world, and lookest East, and lookest West!
Dispensatress, that by a word givest a thousand miles--that giv'st a
million farms, and missest nothing!
Thou All-Acceptress--thou Hospitable--(thou only art hospitable, as
God is hospitable.) 40
When late I sang, sad was my voice;
Sad were the shows around me, with deafening noises of hatred, and
smoke of conflict;
In the midst of the armies, the Heroes, I stood,
Or pass'd with slow step through the wounded and dying.
But now I sing not War,
Nor the measur'd march of soldiers, nor the tents of camps,
Nor the regiments hastily coming up, deploying in line of battle.
No more the dead and wounded;
No more the sad, unnatural shows of War.
Ask'd room those flush'd immortal ranks? the first forth-stepping
armies? 50
Ask room, alas, the ghastly ranks--the armies dread that follow'd.
(Pass--pass, ye proud brigades!
So handsome, dress'd in blue--with your tramping, sinewy legs;
With your shoulders young and strong--with your knapsacks and your
muskets;
--How elate I stood and watch'd you, where, starting off, you
march'd!
Pass;--then rattle, drums, again!
Scream, you steamers on the river, out of whistles loud and shrill,
your salutes!
For an army heaves in sight--O another gathering army!
Swarming, trailing on the rear--O you dread, accruing army!
O you regiments so piteous, with your mortal diarrhoea! with your
fever! 60
O my land's maimed darlings! with the plenteous bloody bandage and
the crutch!
Lo! your pallid army follow'd!)
But on these days of brightness,
On the far-stretching beauteous landscape, the roads and lanes, the
high-piled farm-wagons, and the fruits and barns,
Shall the dead intrude?
Ah, the dead to me mar not--they fit well in Nature;
They fit very well in the landscape, under t
Scheme | AXB XCX XBDXD EXXD XFXXXGAAFHXXXX XXCXXXIXXDJDKIXFLXJ EHXXL MXJ XM LGN XXMAXX IXXDDMOHXN XFKX OD |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 0110111 011110101 01110110111 011011111101010 10011 011011101111 1010111001011 11010111111101 01011110111 10001011101001 100111 111111011101 110111110101 1101111100101 011111111 100111 1101110010 10010111 11101010101 0101010101010011 0101010101001 01001011010101 01010011 0100101011100 010111110110 01010010 01110101001 010101010101 011101010101010 1010011 1111010101 11111011111101 10 1111111010 01001011111111 1 11111110111011 111101001011111 0101010011010111 1101011100 11110010 1101010101 110111001001101 11011011 1110110101110 1010110 11111100110111001 111100 11111111 10010111100101100 1110 001101001011 111111010010 111111 1010111010111 1010010010101001110 1101010 11010100111 1111010101110 10 110101010101110 111101 11010111101001 111010111101 1 1011101111011 1 1110101 111010101110101 101 1110101101010010 101010111101010 1110011111001011 10 11111010110100 01 11101010 1111110 101101101010 1111000101 10101 1011111111010 11101001101 |
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 4,388 |
Words | 657 |
Sentences | 46 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 3, 3, 5, 4, 14, 19, 5, 3, 2, 3, 6, 10, 4, 2 |
Lines Amount | 83 |
Letters per line (avg) | 36 |
Words per line (avg) | 11 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 215 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 65 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 13, 2023
- 3:21 min read
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"Leaves Of Grass. A Carol Of Harvest For 1867" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/38052/leaves-of-grass.-a-carol-of-harvest-for-1867>.
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