Analysis of The Burial Place
William Cullen Bryant 1794 (Cummington) – 1878 (New York City)
Erewhile, on England's pleasant shores, our sires
Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades
Or blossoms; and indulgent to the strong
And natural dread of man's last home, the grave,
Its frost and silence--they disposed around,
To soothe the melancholy spirit that dwelt
Too sadly on life's close, the forms and hues
Of vegetable beauty.--There the yew,
Green even amid the snows of winter, told
Of immortality, and gracefully
The willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;
And there the gadding woodbine crept about,
And there the ancient ivy. From the spot
Where the sweet maiden, in her blossoming years
Cut off, was laid with streaming eyes, and hands
That trembled as they placed her there, the rose
Sprung modest, on bowed stalk, and better spoke
Her graces, than the proudest monument.
There children set about their playmate's grave
The pansy. On the infant's little bed,
Wet at its planting with maternal tears,
Emblem of early sweetness, early death,
Nestled the lowly primrose. Childless dames,
And maids that would not raise the reddened eye--
Orphans, from whose young lids the light of joy
Fled early,--silent lovers, who had given
All that they lived for to the arms of earth,
Came often, o'er the recent graves to strew
Their offerings, rue, and rosemary, and flowers.
The pilgrim bands who passed the sea to keep
Their Sabbaths in the eye of God alone,
In his wide temple of the wilderness,
Brought not these simple customs of the heart
With them. It might be, while they laid their dead
By the vast solemn skirts of the old groves,
And the fresh virgin soil poured forth strange flowers
About their graves; and the familiar shades
Of their own native isle, and wonted blooms,
And herbs were wanting, which the pious hand
Might plant or scatter there, these gentle rites
Passed out of use. Now they are scarcely known,
And rarely in our borders may you meet
The tall larch, sighing in the burying-place,
Or willow, trailing low its boughs to hide
The gleaming marble. Naked rows of graves
And melancholy ranks of monuments
Are seen instead, where the coarse grass, between,
Shoots up its dull green spikes, and in the wind
Hisses, and the neglected bramble nigh,
Offers its berries to the schoolboy's hand,
In vain--they grow too near the dead. Yet here,
Nature, rebuking the neglect of man,
Plants often, by the ancient mossy stone,
The brier rose, and upon the broken turf
That clothes the fresher grave, the strawberry vine
Sprinkles its swell with blossoms, and lays forth
Her ruddy, pouting fruit. * * * * *
Scheme | XAXBXXXCXXXXXXXXXXBDXXXEXXXCF XGXXDXFAXHXGXXXXXXXEHXXGXXXX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1110101101 11110111 1100010101 01001111101 1101010101 1101001011 1101110101 110010101 11001011101 101000100 0100100101 010101101 0101010101 10110001001 1111110101 1101110101 1101110101 0101010100 110101111 0101010101 1111010101 1011010101 100101101 011111011 1011110111 11010101110 1111110111 11010010111 11001010010 0101110111 1100011101 0111010100 1111010101 1111111111 1011011011 00110111110 0111000101 111101011 0101010101 1111011101 1111111101 01001010111 01110001001 111011111 0101010111 010011100 1101101101 1111110001 1000010101 101101011 0111110111 1001000111 110101011 01010010101 1101010101 1011110011 010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,493 |
Words | 439 |
Sentences | 13 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 29, 28 |
Lines Amount | 57 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,001 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 217 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:13 min read
- 123 Views
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"The Burial Place" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/40331/the-burial-place>.
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