Analysis of Brother and Sister
George Eliot 1819 (Nuneaton, Warwickshire) – 1880 (Chelsea, London)
I cannot choose but think upon the time
When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss
At lightest thrill from the bee's swinging chime,
Because the one so near the other is.
He was the elder and a little man
Of forty inches, bound to show no dread,
And I the girl that puppy-like now ran,
Now lagged behind my brother's larger tread.
I held him wise, and when he talked to me
Of snakes and birds, and which God loved the best,
I thought his knowledge marked the boundary
Where men grew blind, though angels knew the rest.
If he said 'Hush!' I tried to hold my breath;
Wherever he said 'Come!' I stepped in faith.
Long years have left their writing on my brow,
But yet the freshness and the dew-fed beam
Of those young mornings are about me now,
When we two wandered toward the far-off stream
With rod and line. Our basket held a store
Baked for us only, and I thought with joy
That I should have my share, though he had more,
Because he was the elder and a boy.
The firmaments of daisies since to me
Have had those mornings in their opening eyes,
The bunchèd cowslip's pale transparency
Carries that sunshine of sweet memories,
And wild-rose branches take their finest scent
From those blest hours of infantine content.
Our mother bade us keep the trodden ways,
Stroked down my tippet, set my brother's frill,
Then with the benediction of her gaze
Clung to us lessening, and pursued us still
Across the homestead to the rookery elms,
Whose tall old trunks had each a grassy mound,
So rich for us, we counted them as realms
With varied products: here were earth-nuts found,
And here the Lady-fingers in deep shade;
Here sloping toward the Moat the rushes grew,
The large to split for pith, the small to braid;
While over all the dark rooks cawing flew,
And made a happy strange solemnity,
A deep-toned chant from life unknown to me.
Our meadow-path had memorable spots:
One where it bridged a tiny rivulet,
Deep hid by tangled blue Forget-me-nots;
And all along the waving grasses met
My little palm, or nodded to my cheek,
When flowers with upturned faces gazing drew
My wonder downward, seeming all to speak
With eyes of souls that dumbly heard and knew.
Then came the copse, where wild things rushed unseen,
And black-scathed grass betrayed the past abode
Of mystic gypsies, who still lurked between
Me and each hidden distance of the road.
A gypsy once had startled me at play,
Blotting with her dark smile my sunny day.
Thus rambling we were schooled in deepest lore,
And learned the meanings that give words a soul,
The fear, the love, the primal passionate store,
Whose shaping impulses make manhood whole.
Those hours were seed to all my after good;
My infant gladness, through eye, ear, and touch,
Took easily as warmth a various food
To nourish the sweet skill of loving much.
For who in age shall roam the earth and find
Reasons for loving that will strike out love
With sudden rod from the hard year-pressed mind?
Were reasons sown as thick as stars above,
'Tis love must see them, as the eye sees light:
Day is but Number to the darkened sight.
Our brown canal was endless to my thought;
And on its banks I sat in dreamy peace,
Unknowing how the good I loved was wrought,
Untroubled by the fear that it would cease.
Slowly the barges floated into view
Rounding a grassy hill to me sublime
With some Unknown beyond it, whither flew
The parting cuckoo toward a fresh spring time.
The wide-arched bridge, the scented elder-flowers,
The wondrous watery rings that died too soon,
The echoes of the quarry, the still hours
With white robe sweeping-on the shadeless noon,
Were but my growing self, are part of me,
My present Past, my root of piety.
Those long days measured by my little feet
Had chronicles which yield me many a text;
Where irony still finds an image meet
Of full-grown judgments in this world perplext.
One day my brother left me in high charge,
To mind the rod, while he went seeking bait,
And bade me, when I saw a nearing barge,
Snatch out the line lest he should come too late.
Proud of the task, I watched with all my might
For one whole minute, till my eyes grew wide,
Till sky and earth took on a strange new light
And seemed a dre
Scheme | AXAX BCBC DEDE XX FGFG HIHI DXDX JJ KLKL MNMN OPOP DD QCQX RPRP STST UU HVHV XWXW XYXY ZZ 1 2 1 2 PAPA 3 4 3 4 DD 5 X5 C 6 7 6 7 ZXZF |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101110101 11011111111 1101101101 0101110101 1101000101 1101011111 0101110111 1101110101 1111011111 1101011101 1111010100 1111110101 1111111111 0101111101 1111110111 1101000111 1111010111 11110010111 11011010101 1111001111 1111111111 0111010001 01110111 11110011001 011110100 101111100 0111011101 111101110 10101110101 1111011101 110010101 11110000111 01011011 1111110101 1111110111 1101010111 0101010011 11001010101 0111110111 110101111 0101010100 0111110111 1011110001 11110101 1111010111 0101010101 1101110111 1101110101 1101010111 111111101 1101111101 0111010101 1101011101 1011010101 0101110111 1010111101 1101010101 0101011101 01010101001 110100111 11001111101 110111101 11001101001 1100111101 1101110101 1011011111 1101101111 0101111101 1111110111 1111010101 10101110111 0111110101 0101011111 0101011111 1001010011 1001011101 1101011101 0101010111 01110101010 01010011111 01010100110 111101011 0111011111 1101111100 1111011101 11001111001 1100111101 111100111 1111011011 1101111101 0111110101 1101111111 1101111111 1111011111 1101110111 0101 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,191 |
Words | 771 |
Sentences | 30 |
Stanzas | 27 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4, 2, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 96 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 121 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 28 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 28, 2023
- 3:52 min read
- 260 Views
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"Brother and Sister" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 3 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/14926/brother-and-sister>.
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