Analysis of To Valeria.
Ada Langworthy Collier 1843 (Ada Langworthy December 23, 1843Dubuque, Iowa) – 1919 (USA)
Broideries and ancient stuffs that some queen
Wore; nor gems that warriors' hilts encrusted;
Nor fresh from heroes' brows the laurels green;
Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted
To earth's great granaries--I bring not these.
Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleaned
Erewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please.
So poor indeed, those others had demeaned
Themselves to cull; or from their strong, firm hands
Down dropped about their feet with careless laugh,
Too broken for home gathering, these strands,
Or else more useless than the idle chaff.
But I have garnered them. Yet, lest they seem
Unworthy, and so shame Love's offering,
Amid the loose-bound sheaf stray flowers gleam.
And fairer seeming make the gift I bring,
Lilies blood-red, that lit the waving field,
And now are knotted through the golden grain.
Thou wilt not scorn the tribute I now yield,
Nor even deem the foolish flowers vain.
So take it, and if still too slight, too small
It seem, think 'tis a bloom that grew anear,
In other Springtime, the old garden wall.
(That pale blue flower you will remember, dear.
The heedless world, unseeing, passed it by,
And left it to the bee and you.) Then say,
"Because the hands that tended it are nigh
No more, and little feet are gone away
That round it trampled down the beaded grass,
Sweeter to me it is than musky spray
Of Southland; and dearer than days that pass
In other summer-tides." This simple song
Read so, dear heart; Nay, rather white-souled one,
Think 'tis an olden echo, wandered long
From a low bed where 'neath the westering sun
You sang. And if your lone heart ever said
"Lo, she is gone, and cannot more be mine,"
Say now, "She is not changed--she is not wed,--
She never left her cradle bed. Still shine
The pillows with the print of her wee head."
So, mother-heart, this song, where through still rings
The strain you sang above my baby bed,
I bring. An idle gift mayhap, that clings
About old days forgotten long, and dead.
This loitering tale, Valeria, take.
Perchance 'tis sad, and hath not any mirth,
Yet love thou it, for the weak singer's sake,
And hold it dear, though yet is little worth,
This tale of Elder-world: of earth's first prime,
Of years that in their grave so long have lain,
To-day's dull ear, through poets' tuneful rhyme
No echo hears, nor mocking friar's strain.
Scheme | ABABCDCDEFEFGHGHIJIJKLKLMNMNOLOPQPQRSRSRTRTRUVUVWJWJ |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 10101111 11111001010 1111010101 1111111010 11111111 1011011101 111110111 1101110101 0111111111 1101111101 1101110011 1111010101 1111011111 0100111100 0101111101 0101010111 1011110101 0111010101 1111010111 1101010101 1110111111 111101111 010101101 11110110101 0111111 0111010111 0101110111 1101011101 1111010101 1011111101 110101111 0101011101 1111110111 1111010101 101111011 1101111101 1111010111 1111111111 1101010111 0101011011 1101111111 0111011101 111101111 0111010101 1100101001 0111011101 1111101101 0111111101 1111011111 1110111111 1111110101 110111011 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,285 |
Words | 416 |
Sentences | 18 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 52 |
Lines Amount | 52 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,811 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 414 |
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Submitted on August 03, 2020
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:05 min read
- 5 Views
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"To Valeria." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/54625/to-valeria.>.
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