Analysis of Thoughts Fer The Discuraged Farmer
James Whitcomb Riley 1849 (Greenfield) – 1916 (Indianapolis)
The summer winds is sniffin' round the bloomin'
locus' trees;
And the clover in the pastur is a big day fer the bees,
And they been a-swiggin' honey, above board and on the
sly,
Tel they stutter in theyr buzzin' and stagger as they fly.
The flicker on the fence-rail 'pears to jest spit on his
wings
And roll up his feathers, by the sassy way he sings;
And the hoss-fly is a-whettin'-up his forelegs fer biz,
And the off-mare is a-switchin' all of her tale they is.
You can hear the blackbirds jawin' as they foller up the
plow--
Oh, theyr bound to git theyr brekfast, and theyr not
a-carin' how;
So they quarrel in the furries, and they quarrel on the
wing--
But theyr peaceabler in pot-pies than any other thing:
And it's when I git my shotgun drawed up in stiddy rest,
She's as full of tribbelation as a yeller-jacket's nest;
And a few shots before dinner, when the sun's a-shinin'
right,
Seems to kindo'-sorto' sharpen up a feller's appetite!
They's been a heap o' rain, but the sun's out to-day,
And the clouds of the wet spell is all cleared away,
And the woods is all the greener, and the grass is greener
still;
It may rain again to-morry, but I don't think it will.
Some says the crops is ruined, and the corn's drownded
out,
And propha-sy the wheat will be a failure, without doubt;
But the kind Providence that has never failed us yet,
Will be on hands onc't more at the 'leventh hour, I bet!
Does the medder-lark complane, as he swims high and
dry
Through the waves of the wind and the blue of the sky?
Does the quail set up and whissel in a disappinted way,
Er hang his head in silunce, and sorrow all the day?
Is the chipmuck's health a-failin'?--Does he walk, er does
he run?
Don't the buzzards ooze around up thare just like they've
allus done?
Is they anything the matter with the rooster's lungs er
voice?
Ort a mortul be complainin' when dumb animals rejoice?
Then let us, one and all, be contentud with our lot;
The June is here this morning, and the sun is shining hot.
Oh! let us fill our harts up with the glory of the day,
And banish ev'ry doubt and care and sorrow fur away!
Whatever be our station, with Providence fer guide,
Sich fine circumstances ort to make us satisfied;
Fer the world is full of roses, and the roses full of dew,
And the dew is full of heavenly love that drips fer me
and you.
Scheme | ABBCDDEFFEE CGHGCIIJJAKK LLMNNHOOPP XDDLLXAXAMQQ HHLLRRSXS |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 010111101 101 00100011011101 0110110011010 1 1110011010111 0101011111111 1 0111101010111 001110111111 0011101110111 111010111110 1 1111111011 0101 1110001011010 1 111011110101 011111111011 1111110111 0011011010101 1 11111010110 110111101111 001101111101 00111010001110 1 11101110111111 11011100011 1 0110111010011 1011001110111 1111111011011 1011111110 1 101101001101 10111010011 011101010101 10110111101 11 101010111111 11 111001010110 1 101111110001 111101111101 01111100011101 111110111010101 0101101010101 1011010110011 11100111110 101111100010111 00111110011111 01 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,279 |
Words | 441 |
Sentences | 17 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 11, 12, 10, 12, 9 |
Lines Amount | 54 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 355 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 88 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:17 min read
- 139 Views
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"Thoughts Fer The Discuraged Farmer" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/21142/thoughts-fer-the-discuraged-farmer>.
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