Analysis of Hard Weather
George Meredith 1828 (Portsmouth, Hampshire) – 1909 (Box Hill, Surrey)
Bursts from a rending East in flaws
The young green leaflet's harrier, sworn
To strew the garden, strip the shaws,
And show our Spring with banner torn.
Was ever such virago morn?
The wind has teeth, the wind has claws.
All the wind's wolves through woods are loose,
The wild wind's falconry aloft.
Shrill underfoot the grassblade shrews,
At gallop, clumped, and down the croft
Bestrid by shadows, beaten, tossed;
It seems a scythe, it seems a rod.
The howl is up at the howl's accost;
The shivers greet and the shivers nod.
Is the land ship? we are rolled, we drive
Tritonly, cleaving hiss and hum;
Whirl with the dead, or mount or dive,
Or down in dregs, or on in scum.
And drums the distant, pipes the near,
And vale and hill are grey in grey,
As when the surge is crumbling sheer,
And sea-mews wing the haze of spray.
Clouds--are they bony witches?--swarms,
Darting swift on the robber's flight,
Hurry an infant sky in arms:
It peeps, it becks; 'tis day, 'tis night.
Black while over the loop of blue
The swathe is closed, like shroud on corse.
Lo, as if swift the Furies flew,
The Fates at heel at a cry to horse!
Interpret me the savage whirr:
And is it Nature scourged, or she,
Her offspring's executioner,
Reducing land to barren sea?
But is there meaning in a day
When this fierce angel of the air,
Intent to throw, and haply slay,
Can for what breath of life we bear,
Exact the wrestle?--Call to mind
The many meanings glistening up
When Nature to her nurslings kind,
Hands them the fruitage and the cup!
And seek we rich significance
Not otherwhere than with those tides
Of pleasure on the sunned expanse,
Whose flow deludes, whose ebb derides?
Look in the face of men who fare
Lock-mouthed, a match in lungs and thews
For this fierce angel of the air,
To twist with him and take his bruise.
That is the face beloved of old
Of Earth, young mother of her brood:
Nor broken for us shows the mould
When muscle is in mind renewed:
Though farther from her nature rude,
Yet nearer to her spirit's hold:
And though of gentler mood serene,
Still forceful of her fountain-jet.
So shall her blows be shrewdly met,
Be luminously read the scene
Where Life is at her grindstone set,
That she may give us edgeing keen,
String us for battle, till as play
The common strokes of fortune shower.
Such meaning in a dagger-day
Our wits may clasp to wax in power.
Yea, feel us warmer at her breast,
By spin of blood in lusty drill,
Than when her honeyed hands caressed,
And Pleasure, sapping, seemed to fill.
Behold the life at ease; it drifts.
The sharpened life commands its course.
She winnows, winnows roughly; sifts,
To dip her chosen in her source:
Contention is the vital force,
Whence pluck they brain, her prize of gifts,
Sky of the senses! on which height,
Not disconnected, yet released,
They see how spirit comes to light,
Through conquest of the inner beast,
Which Measure tames to movement sane,
In harmony with what is fair.
Never is Earth misread by brain:
That is the welling of her, there
The mirror: with one step beyond,
For likewise is it voice; and more,
Benignest kinship bids respond,
When wail the weak, and them restore
Whom days as fell as this may rive,
While Earth sits ebon in her gloom,
Us atomies of life alive
Unheeding, bent on life to come.
Her children of the labouring brain,
These are the champions of the race,
True parents, and the sole humane,
With understanding for their base.
Earth yields the milk, but all her mind
Is vowed to thresh for stouter stock.
Her passion for old giantkind,
That scaled the mount, uphurled the rock,
Devolves on them who read aright
Her meaning and devoutly serve;
Nor in her starlessness of night
Peruse her with the craven nerve:
But even as she from grass to corn,
To eagle high from grubbing mole,
Prove in strong brain her noblest born,
The station for the flight of soul.
Scheme | ABABBAXCACDEDE FGFGHIHIXJXJKLKL HMNMIOIOPQPQXRXR OAOXSTSTTSUVVUVUININWXWX YLYLLYJZJZ1 O1 O2 3 2 3 FXFG1 4 1 4 P5 C5 C6 J6 B7 B7 |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11010101 01111001 11010101 011011101 110101 01110111 10111111 01110001 101011 11010101 111101 11011101 011110101 010100101 101111111 11101 11011111 11011101 01010101 01011101 110111001 01110111 11110101 1011011 10110101 11111111 11100111 01111111 1111011 011110111 01010101 01110111 010100 01011101 11110001 11110101 0111011 11111111 01010111 010101001 1101011 1101001 01110100 111111 11010101 11011101 10011111 11010101 11110101 11110111 11010111 11110101 11011101 11010101 11010101 11010101 01110101 11010101 11011101 11101 1111011 1111111 11110111 010111010 11000101 1011111010 11110101 11110101 1101101 01010111 01011111 01010111 111101 11010001 01010101 11110111 11010111 1010101 11110111 11010101 11011101 01001111 10110111 11010101 01011101 1111101 11101 11010101 11111111 1111001 111101 111111 0101011 110100101 11000101 1010111 11011101 1111111 010111 1101101 111111 01000101 100111 01010101 110111111 1101111 10110101 01010111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 3,739 |
Words | 702 |
Sentences | 31 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 14, 16, 16, 24, 38 |
Lines Amount | 108 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 599 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 140 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:32 min read
- 125 Views
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"Hard Weather" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 12 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/15468/hard-weather>.
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