Analysis of At Sea
Ada Cambridge 1844 (St Germans, Norfolk) – 1926 (Melbourne)
When the investing darkness growls,
And deep reverberates to deep;
When keyhole whines and chimney howls,
And all the roofs and windows weep;
Then, through the doorless walls of sleep,
The still-sealed ear and shuttered sight,
Phantoms of memory steal and creep,
The very ghosts of sound and light--
Dream-visions and dream-voices of a bygone night.
I see again, I hear again,
Where lightnings flash and house-eaves drip,
A flying swirl of waves and rain--
That storm-path between Sound and Rip.
I feel the swaying of the ship
In every gust that rocks the trees,
And taste that brine upon my lip
And smell the freshness of the breeze
That sped us through the welter of those racing seas.
I hear the menace of the call
To rope and rivet, wheel and mast,
In the swift onrush of the squall,
The challenge of the thundering blast
To daring men as it sweeps past;
And in my dream I have no dread.
Rivet and rope are firm and fast,
The clear lights shining, green and red,
The quiet eyes of sentry watching overhead.
What epic battles pass unsung!
It was a war of gods befell
On that wild night when we were young.
They rode, like cavalry of hell,
The mighty winds, the monstrous swell,
On their white horses, fierce and fleet;
They stood at bay, invincible,
Where pulsed beneath our sliding feet
The faithful iron heart that never lost a beat.
How the sharp sea-spume lashed and stung!
How the salt sea-wind tugged and tare
And clawed and mauled us where we clung,
With panting breasts and streaming hair,
To our frail eyrie in mid-air!
How we exulted in the fight--
With neither haste nor halt to dare
Those Titans furies in their might,
Undaunted and unswerving in our insect flight!
No lap of exquisite repose!
A mortar wherein souls are brayed;
An anvil ringing to the blows
Whereby true men are shaped, and made
Divinely strong and unafraid.
Such gallant sailor-men there be--
Never unready or dismayed,
Though 't's the face of death they see
In cyclone, fire and fog, and white surf on the lee.
Not only in the sylvan bower,
On dreaming hill, by sleeping mere,
The holy place--the sacred hour.
Beset by every form of fear,
Darkness ahead and danger near,
Sorely hard-driven and hard-prest,
But still unspent and of good cheer--
He finds them who can pass the test,
Who never winks an eye and never stays to rest
Scheme | ABABBCBCC XDXDDEDEE FGFGGHGHH IJIJJKXKK ILILLCLCC MCMNNONOO LL LLLPLPP |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 10010101 0101011 1110101 01010101 1101111 01110101 101100101 01011101 11001101011 11011101 11010111 01011101 11101101 11010101 010011101 01110111 01010101 111101011101 11010101 11010101 0011101 010101001 11011111 00111111 10011101 01110101 010111010101 11010101 11011101 11111101 11110011 01010101 11110101 11110100 110110101 010101110101 10111101 10111101 01011111 11010101 110110011 11010001 11011111 1101011 010001001011 11110001 01001111 11010101 01111101 0101001 11010111 101101 11011111 0011001011101 110001010 11011101 010101010 011100111 10010101 10110011 11010111 11111101 110111010111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,705 |
Words | 416 |
Sentences | 16 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 2, 7 |
Lines Amount | 63 |
Letters per line (avg) | 29 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 227 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 52 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:05 min read
- 106 Views
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"At Sea" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/43/at-sea>.
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