Analysis of The Russian Fugitive
William Wordsworth 1770 (Wordsworth House) – 1850 (Cumberland)
ENOUGH of rose-bud lips, and eyes
Like harebells bathed in dew,
Of cheek that with carnation vies,
And veins of violet hue;
Earth wants not beauty that may scorn
A likening to frail flowers;
Yea, to the stars, if they were born
For seasons and for hours.
Through Moscow's gates, with gold unbarred,
Stepped One at dead of night,
Whom such high beauty could not guard
From meditated blight;
By stealth she passed, and fled as fast
As doth the hunted fawn,
Nor stopped, till in the dappling east
Appeared unwelcome dawn.
Seven days she lurked in brake and field,
Seven nights her course renewed,
Sustained by what her scrip might yield,
Or berries of the wood;
At length, in darkness travelling on,
When lowly doors were shut,
The haven of her hope she won,
Her foster-mother's hut.
'To put your love to dangerous proof
I come,' said she, 'from far;
For I have left my Father's roof,
In terror of the czar.'
No answer did the Matron give,
No second look she cast,
But hung upon the fugitive,
Embracing and embraced.
She led the Lady to a seat
Beside the glimmering fire,
Bathed duteously her wayworn feet,
Prevented each desire:---
The cricket chirped, the house-dog dozed,
And on that simple bed,
Where she in childhood had reposed,
Now rests her weary head.
When she, whose couch had been the sod,
Whose curtain, pine or thorn,
Had breathed a sigh of thanks to God,
Who comforts the forlorn;
While over her the Matron bent
Sleep sealed her eyes, and stole
Feeling from limbs with travel spent,
And trouble from the soul.
Refreshed, the Wanderer rose at morn,
And soon again was dight
In those unworthy vestments worn
Through long and perilous flight;
And 'O beloved Nurse,' she said,
'My thanks with silent tears
Have unto Heaven and You been paid:
Now listen to my fears !
'Have you forgot'---and here she smiled---
'The babbling flatteries
You lavished on me when a child
Disporting round your knees?
I was your lambkin, and your bird,
Your star, your gem, your flower;
Light words, that were more lightly heard
In many a cloudless hour!
'The blossom you so fondly praised
Is come to bitter fruit;
A mighty One upon me gazed;
I spurned his lawless suit,
And must be hidden from his wrath:
You, Foster-father dear,
Will guide me in my forward path;
I may not tarry here!
'I cannot bring to utter woe
Your proved fidelity.'---
'Dear Child, sweet Mistress, say not so!
For you we both would die.'
'Nay, nay, I come with semblance feigned
And cheek embrowned by art;
Yet, being inwardly unstained,
With courage will depart.'
'But whither would you, could you, flee?
A poor Man's counsel take;
The Holy Virgin gives to me
A thought for your dear sake;
Rest, shielded by our Lady's grace,
And soon shall you be led
Forth to a safe abiding-place,
Where never foot doth tread.'
II
THE dwelling of this faithful pair
In a straggling village stood,
For One who breathed unquiet air
A dangerous neighbourhood;
But wide around lay forest ground
With thickets rough and blind;
And pine-trees made a heavy shade
Impervious to the wind.
And there, sequestered from the eight,
Was spread a treacherous swamp,
On which the noonday sun shed light
As from a lonely lamp;
And midway in the unsafe morass,
A single Island rose
Of firm dry ground, with healthful grass
Adorned, and shady boughs.
The Woodman knew, for such the craft
This Russian vassal plied,
That never fowler's gun, nor shaft
Of archer, there was tried;
A sanctuary seemed the spot
From all intrusion free;
And there he planned an artful Cot
For perfect secrecy.
With earnest pains unchecked by dread
Of Power's far-stretching hand,
The bold good Man his labor sped
At nature's pure command;
Heart-soothed, and busy as a wren,
While, in a hollow nook,
She moulds her sight-eluding den
Above a murmuring brook.
His task accomplished to his mind,
The twain ere break of day
Creep forth, and through the forest wind
Their solitary way;
Few words they speak, nor dare to slack
Their pace from mile to mi
Scheme | Text too long |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 01111101 11101 11110101 0111001 11110111 01001110 11011101 1100110 1101111 111111 11110111 111 11110111 110101 1110011 010101 101110101 1010101 01110111 110101 110101001 110101 01010111 010101 111111001 111111 11111101 010101 11010101 110111 11010100 010001 11010101 01010010 11011 0101010 01010111 011101 110111 110101 11111101 110111 11011111 110001 11000101 110101 10111101 010101 010100111 010111 0101011 1101001 0101111 111101 110100111 110111 1110111 01001 11011101 1111 1111011 1111110 11101101 01001010 01011101 111101 01010111 111101 01110111 110101 11101101 111101 11011101 110100 11110111 111111 11111101 01111 11010001 110101 11011111 011101 01010111 011111 110110101 011111 11010101 110111 1 01011101 001101 111111 01001 11011101 110101 01110101 0100101 01010101 1101001 1101111 110101 01000101 010101 11111101 010101 01011101 110101 11010111 110111 0100101 110101 01111101 101100 11010111 1101101 01111101 110101 11010101 100101 11010101 0101001 11010111 011111 11010101 11001 11111111 111111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 4,142 |
Words | 705 |
Sentences | 22 |
Stanzas | 16 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 8, 8, 8, 6 |
Lines Amount | 127 |
Letters per line (avg) | 24 |
Words per line (avg) | 5 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 193 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 44 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:32 min read
- 84 Views
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"The Russian Fugitive" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/42381/the-russian-fugitive>.
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