Analysis of Farewell And Defiance To Love
John Clare 1793 (Helpston) – 1864 (St Andrew's Hospital)
Love and thy vain employs, away
From this too oft deluded breast!
No longer will I court thy stay,
To be my bosom's teazing guest.
Thou treacherous medicine, reckoned pure,
Thou quackery of the harassed heart,
That kills what it pretends to cure,
Life's mountebank thou art.
With nostrums vain of boasted powers,
That, ta'en, a worse disorder leave;
An asp hid in a group of flowers,
That bites and stings when few perceive;
Thou mock-truce to the troubled mind,
Leading it more in sorrow's way,
Freedom, that leaves us more confined,
I bid thee hence away.
Dost taunt, and deem thy power beyond
The resolution reason gave?
Tut! Falsity hath snapt each bond,
That kept me once thy quiet slave,
And made thy snare a spider's thread,
Which een my breath can break in twain;
Nor will I be, like Sampson, led
To trust thy wiles again.
I took thee as my staff to guide
Me on the road I did pursue,
And when my weakness most relied
Upon its strength it broke in two.
I took thee as my friendly host
That counsel might in dangers show,
But when I needed thee the most
I found thou wert my foe.
Tempt me no more with rosy cheeks,
Nor daze my reason with bright eyes;
I'm wearied with thy painted freaks,
And sicken at such vanities:
Be roses fine as eer they will,
They, with the meanest, fade and die,
And eyes, though thronged with darts to kill,
Share like mortality.
Feed the young bard, that madly sips
His nectar-draughts from folly's flowers,
Bright eyes, fair cheeks, and ruby lips,
Till muses melt to honey showers;
Lure him to thrum thy empty lays,
While flattery listens to the chimes,
Till words themselves grow sick with praise
And stop for want of rhymes.
Let such be still thy paramours,
And chaunt love's old and idle tune,
Robbing the spring of all its flowers,
And heaven of all her stars and moon,
To gild with dazzling similes
Blind folly's vain and empty lay:
I'm sobered from such phantasies,
So get thee hence away.
Nor bid me sigh for mine own cost,
Nor count its loss, for mine annoy,
Nor say my stubbornness hath lost
A paradise of dainty joy:
I'll not believe thee, till I know
That sober reason turns an ape,
And acts the harlequin, to show
That cares in every shape,
Heart-achings, sighs, and grief-wrung tears,
Shame-blushes at betrayed distress,
Dissembled smiles, and jealous fears,
Are nought but real happiness:
Then will I mourn what now I brave,
And suffer Celia's quirks to be
(Like a poor fate-bewilder'd slave,)
The rulers of my destiny.
I'll weep and sigh wheneer she wills
To frown, and when she deigns to smile
It shall be cure for all my ills,
And, foolish still, I'll laugh the while;
But till that comes, I'll bless the rules
Experience taught, and deem it wise
To hold thee as the game of fools,
And all thy tricks despise.
Scheme | ABABCDCD EFEFGAGA HIHIJXJX KLKLMNMN OPOXQXQRSESETUTU EVEVEAEA XWXWNXNX XXXXIRIR YZYZ1 P1 P |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Etheree (28%) |
Metre | 10110101 11110101 11011111 111111 1100100101 110010011 11110111 1111 110111010 111010101 111001110 11011101 11110101 1011011 10111101 111101 110111001 0010101 11001111 11111101 0111011 11111101 11111101 111101 11111111 11011101 01110101 01111101 11111101 11010101 11110101 111111 11111101 11110111 11011101 01011100 11011111 11010101 01111111 110100 10111101 11011110 11110101 110111010 11111101 110010101 11011111 011111 111111 01110101 100111110 010110101 1111001 1110101 110111 111101 11111111 11111101 11110011 0101101 11011111 11010111 01010011 1101001 1110111 11010101 110101 1111100 11111111 0101111 10110101 01011100 1101111 11011111 11111111 01011101 11111101 010010111 11110111 011101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,690 |
Words | 505 |
Sentences | 15 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8, 16, 8, 8, 8, 8 |
Lines Amount | 80 |
Letters per line (avg) | 27 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 239 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 56 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:36 min read
- 98 Views
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