Analysis of The Tired Worker
Claude McKay 1889 (Clarendon Parish) – 1948 (Chicago)
O whisper, O my soul! The afternoon
Is waning into evening, whisper soft!
Peace, O my rebel heart! for soon the moon
From out its misty veil will swing aloft!
Be patient, weary body, soon the night
Will wrap thee gently in her sable sheet,
And with a leaden sigh thou wilt invite
To rest thy tired hands and aching feet.
The wretched day was theirs, the night is mine;
Come tender sleep, and fold me to thy breast.
But what steals out the gray clouds like red wine?
O dawn! O dreaded dawn! O let me rest
Weary my veins, my brain, my life! Have pity!
No! Once again the harsh, the ugly city.
Scheme | ABACDEDEFGFGHH |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 110111001 1100110101 1111011101 1111011101 1101010101 1111000101 0101011101 1111010101 0101110111 1101011111 1111011111 1111011111 10111111110 11010101010 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 598 |
Words | 117 |
Sentences | 14 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 32 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 451 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 115 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 35 sec read
- 103 Views
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"The Tired Worker" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/6899/the-tired-worker>.
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