Analysis of A Poem On The Last Day - Book III
Edward Young 1681 (Upham) – 1765 (Welwyn)
The book unfolding, the resplendent seat
Of saints and angels, the tremendous fate
Of guilty souls, the gloomy realms of woe,
And all the horrors of the world below,
I next presume to sing. What yet remains
Demands my last, but most exalted, strains.
And let the Muse or now affect the sky,
Or in inglorious shades for ever lie.
She kindles, she's inflamed so near the goal;
She mounts, she gains upon the starry pole;
The world grows less as she pursues her flight,
And the sun darkens to her distant sight.
Heaven, opening, all its sacred pomp displays,
And overwhelms her with the rushing blaze!
The triumph rings! archangels shout around!
And echoing Nature lengthens out the sound!
Ten thousand trumpets now at once advance;
Now deepest silence lulls the vast expanse;
So deep the silence, and so strong the blast,
As Nature died when she had groan'd her last.
Nor man nor angel moves: the Judge on high
Looks round, and with His glory fills the sky:
Then on the fatal book His hand He lays,
Which high to view supporting seraphs raise;
In solemn form the rituals are prepared,
The seal is broken, and a groan is heard.
And thou, my soul, (O fall to sudden prayer,
And let the thought sink deep!) shalt thou be there?
See on the left, (for by the great command
The throng divided falls on either hand,)
How weak, how pale, how haggard, how obscene!
What more than death in every face and mien!
With what distress, and glarings of affright,
They shock the heart, and turn away the sight!
In gloomy orbs their trembling eye-balls roll,
And tell the horrid secrets of the soul.
Each gesture mourns, each look is black with care,
And every groan is loaden with despair.
Reader, if guilty, spare the Muse, and find
A truer image pictured in thy mind.
Shouldst thou behold thy brother, father, wife,
And all the soft companions of thy life,
Whose blended interests levell'd at one aim,
Whose mix'd desires sent up one common flame,
Divided far; thy wretched self alone
Cast on the left, of all whom thou hast known;
How would it wound! What millions wouldst thou give
For one more trial, one day more to live!
Flung back in time an hour, a moment's space,
To grasp with eagerness the means of grace;
Contend for mercy with a pious rage,
And in that moment to redeem an age!
Drive back the tide, suspend a storm in air,
Arrest the sun; but still of this despair.
Mark, on the right, how amiable a grace!
Their Maker's image fresh in every face!
What purple bloom my ravish'd soul admires,
And their eyes sparkling with immortal fires!
Triumphant beauty! charms that rise above
This world, and in bless'd angels kindle love!
To the great Judge with holy pride they turn,
And dare behold the' Almighty's anger burn;
Its flash sustain, against its terror rise,
And on the dread tribunal fix their eyes.
Are these the forms that moulder'd in the dust?
O the transcendent glory of the just!
Yet still some thin remains of fear and doubt
The' infected brightness of their joy pollute.
Thus the chaste bridegroom, when the priest draws nigh,
Beholds his blessing with a trembling eye,
Feels doubtful passions throb in every vein,
And in his cheeks are mingled joy and pain,
Lest still some intervening chance should rise,
Leap forth at once, and snatch the golden prize;
Inflame his woe by bringing it so late,
And stab him in the crisis of his fate.
Since Adam's family, from first to last,
Now into one distinct survey is cast;
Look round, vain-glorious Muse, and you whoe'er
Devote yourselves to Fame, and think her fair;
Look round, and seek the lights of human race,
Whose shining acts Time's brightest annals grace;
Who founded sects; crowns conquer'd, or resign'd;
Gave names to nations, or famed empires join'd;
Who raised the vale, and laid the mountain low,
And taught obedient rivers where to flow;
Who with vast fleets, as with a mighty chain,
Could bind the madness of the roaring main:
All lost! all undistinguish'd! nowhere found!
How will this truth in Bourbon's palace sound?
That hour, on which the' Almighty King on high
From all eternity has fix'd His eye,
Whether His right hand favour'd, or annoy'd,
Continued, alter'd, threaten'd, or destroy'd;
Southern or eastern sceptre downward hurl'd,
Gave north or west dominion o'er the world;
The point of time, for which the world was built,
For which the blood of God Himself was spilt,
That dreadful moment is arrived.
Aloft, the seats of bliss their pomp display,
Brighter th
Scheme | ABCCDDEEFFGGHHII JJKKEEHHXXLL MMNNAGFF LLOO PPQQRRXXSSTTLL SSXXUUVVWWXXXX EEYYWWBB KKLL SSOXCCYYII EEZZ1 1 2 2 X XX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 0101000101 1101000101 1101010111 0101010101 1101111101 0111110101 0101110101 10010011101 111011101 1111010101 0111110101 001110101 101001110101 001010101 010110101 01001010101 1101011101 1101010101 1101001101 1101111101 1111010111 1101110101 1101011111 111101011 01010100101 0111000111 0111111101 0101111111 1101110101 0101011101 1111110101 11110100101 11010111 1101010101 01011100111 0101010101 1101111111 0100111101 1011010101 0101010011 1101110101 0101010111 1101010111 11010111101 0101110101 1101111111 1111110111 1111011111 11011100101 1111000111 0111010101 0011010111 1101010101 0101111101 11011100001 11010101001 110111101 01110101010 0101011101 1100110101 1011110111 010101101 1101011101 0101010111 110111001 1001010101 1111011101 00101011101 101110111 1110101001 11010101001 0011110101 111010111 1111010101 0111110111 0110010111 1101001111 1011010111 1111001011 0101110101 1101011101 1101110101 1101110101 11110111001 1101010101 01010010111 1111110101 1101010101 11101011 111101101 110110010111 1101001111 101111101 0101010101 1011010101 11110101001 0111110111 1101110111 11010101 0101111101 1011 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,334 |
Words | 785 |
Sentences | 38 |
Stanzas | 11 |
Stanza Lengths | 16, 12, 8, 4, 14, 14, 8, 4, 10, 9, 2 |
Lines Amount | 101 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 315 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 71 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 4:03 min read
- 115 Views
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"A Poem On The Last Day - Book III" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/9914/a-poem-on-the-last-day---book-iii>.
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