Analysis of Rooks
Charles Hamilton Sorley 1895 (Aberdeen) – 1915 (Hulluch, Lens)
There where the rusty iron lies,
The rooks are cawing all the day.
Perhaps no man, until he dies,
Will understand them, what they say.
The evening makes the sky like clay.
The slow wind waits for night to rise.
The world is half content. But they
Still trouble all the trees with cries,
That know, and cannot put away,
The yearning to the soul that flies
From day to night, from night to day.
Scheme | ABAB BAB ABAB |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11010101 0111101 01110111 1011111 01010111 01111111 01111011 11010111 11010101 01010111 11111111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 400 |
Words | 77 |
Sentences | 7 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 3, 4 |
Lines Amount | 11 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 101 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 25 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 23 sec read
- 85 Views
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"Rooks" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/5096/rooks>.
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