Analysis of No News From The War
Augusta Davies Webster 1837 (Poole, Dorset) – 1894
I.— At The Camp.
'IS she sitting in the meadow
Where the brook leaps to the mill,
Leaning low against the poplar,
Dreamily and still?
Now, with joined hands, grave, now smiling,
Gathering now and then
From her lap her woodland darlings,
Pale sweet cyclamen?
Sitting as she sat that evening,
Trying to feel that sweet same
Who was waiting me and knew not,
Feel as when I came?
Feel again the strange shy newness,
The betrothing one first kiss?
Oh, my own, you are remembering
In an hour like this.'
II.— In The Meadow.
'HERE, here it was he made me promise him;
He stood beneath that branch; here was his seat,
Just where the bole's shade makes the sunlights dim,
Beside me, at my feet.
Ah, since, so many times we have sat here:
And who can tell when that shall be again?
My love! my love!—But what have I to fear?
Could prayers like mine be vain?
He will not fall, my hero; he will come
Bringing ripe honours more to honour me;
He will come scatheless back, and tell his home
He helped to keep it free.
Oh, love! I was so proud of you before,
How can I be so much much prouder now?
And how can I grow prouder more and more?
Ah! but my heart knows how.'
III.— From A Special Correspondent's Letter.
'AND still no news to matter. Fights each day;
Hundreds of killed and wounded; but we wait
This great impending battle which, they say,
Will be more terrible even than the late.
It must come soon: to-morrow it might be.
Now, since I can tell nothing, let me give
An incident, merely to make you see
How near to death all of us here must live.
This morning, on my chosen slope, from whence
My watch, I thought, was safe, I chanced to see
A young and stalwart captain leap a fence
To pluck a cyclamen, not far from me,
Which made me note his face: this afternoon
On that same slope I saw his body lie
Among a dozen. Well, you may look soon
For tidings of some moment. Now, good-bye.'
Scheme | X ABCB DEXE DFXF XGDG A HIHI XEXX XJXJ KLKL C MNMN JXJX OJOJ PQPQ |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101 1110001 1011101 10101010 101 11111110 100101 1010110 111 10111110 1011111 11101011 11111 10101110 01111 111110100 011011 1001 1111111101 1101111111 110111011 011111 1111011111 0111111101 1111111111 111111 1111110111 10111111 111110111 111111 1111111101 1111111101 0111110101 111111 11010110 0111110111 1011010111 1101010111 11110010101 1111110111 1111110111 1100101111 1111111111 1101110111 1111111111 0101010101 11011111 111111101 1111111101 0101011111 1101110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,847 |
Words | 372 |
Sentences | 31 |
Stanzas | 15 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 1, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 51 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 95 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 24 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:51 min read
- 80 Views
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"No News From The War" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/4097/no-news-from-the-war>.
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