Analysis of A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt 1840 (Petworth House) – 1922 (United Kingdom)
'Tis time I stepped from Horeb to the plain.
Mountains, farewell. I need a heavier air.
Youth's memories are not good for souls in pain,
And each new age has its own meed of care.
Farewell, sad Alps, you are my barrier
Now to the North, and hold my passions slain
For all life's vultures, as I downward fare
To a new land of love which is not vain.
How staid is Italy! No gardened rose
Scattering its leaves is chaster than she is.
No cloister stiller, no retreat more close.
There is a tameness even in her seas
On which white towns look down, as who should say,
``Here wise men long have lived, and live to--day.''
Scheme | ABABCABADEFGHH |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111111101 1011101001 11001111101 0111111111 111111100 1101011101 1111011101 1011111111 1111001101 1001111111 1101010111 110110001 1111111111 1111110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 611 |
Words | 121 |
Sentences | 10 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 473 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 118 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 36 sec read
- 119 Views
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"A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/38610/a-new-pilgrimage%3A-sonnet-xxx>.
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