Analysis of A Letter Sent To Mrs. Barber
Mary Barber 1685 – 1755
Thou glorious Ruler of the beauteous Day!
Have sev'nteen Years so swiftly roll'd away?
Hast thou so oft the heav'nly Circle run,
When scarce I thought thy radiant Course begun?
Never shall I my fleeting Time renew?
Must it all perish in one transient View?
I wish--Alas! my Wishes are in vain:
Those flying Years they never can regain:
With rapid Haste Old Time the Moments drives;
And scarce a Trace of Youth in Age survives:
So, when the weary'd Mortal sinks to Rest,
And ev'ry Tumult ceases in his Breast;
Imagin'd Scenes, and wish'd--for Views arise;
Anew Creation feeds his wond'ring Eyeo;
Till Phoebus, rising o'er the spangled Plain,
Recalls him from the bright, delusive Scene;
With Grief he then perceives th' enchanting Sight,
The fleeting Creature of oblivious Night.
When some fine Voice delights the raptur'd Heart,
By Nature pleasing, yet improv'd by Art;
Tho' trembling each Seraphic Sound decay,
And with melodious Cadence melt away;
The faithful Echo still revives the Strain,
And sweetly charms the list'ning Ear again:
But Life, once vanish'd, will return no more;
No mimic Thought its Presence can restore.
Say then, my Soul, how must I now survey
So many Years, so quickly snatch'd away?
Awake, my Muse! Thou only canst impart
Ease to my Griefs, and heal the wounded Heart:
What Theme shall now employ my youthful Lays?
Say! Next to Heav'n, what Subject claims my Praise?
O impious Question! Dare I ask the Theme,
When a lov'd Parent does that Duty claim?
The Infant Tree, that, with judicious Care,
Some Hand defended from the piercing Air,
With cooling Streams reliev'd the burning Root,
Or lopp'd, with tender Skill, each sickly Shoot,
Soon as it learns the Tempest to despise,
And with diffusive Branches hide the Skies,
Gladly rewards the weary'd Peasant's Pains,
And loads the Parent Hand with annual Gains.
Haste then, my Muse; Sapphira is the Theme;
O strive, tho' vainly, to enhance her Fame:
Her Guardian Care did all my Griefs assuage,
Those sure Attendants of an Infant Age!
By her conducted to the Light of Truth,
I sail, unshipwreck'd, thro' the Storm of Youth:
The heav'nly Influence of her sage Advice
Points from afar the dang'rous Rocks of Vice;
Shews, with discerning Eye, the blissful Plains,
Where Peace, eternal, with fair Virtue reigns.
O Thou, whom ev'ry Grace and Worth attends,
Thou best of Mothers, and thou best of Friends,
Indulgently accept these filial Lays;
Accept thy Son's inartificial Praise:
May Heav'n restore thee to these Eyes again,
And safely waft thee o'er th' Iernian Main:
O quickly to my longing Eyes repair,
And ever bless me with thy Guardian Cate!
Scheme | AABBCCDDEEFFGXDXHH IIAADJKK AAIILLMNOOPPGGQQ MNRRSSTTQQ UULLJDOX |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Tetractys (20%) |
Metre | 1100101011 111110101 111101101 11111100101 1011110101 1111001101 1101110101 1101110101 1101110101 0101110101 110110111 011010011 0101011101 0101011111 11010100101 1110111 111101110101 01010101001 111101011 1101010111 110011101 01010010101 0101010101 0101011101 1111010111 1101110101 1111111101 1101110101 0111110101 1111010101 1111011101 1111101111 10101011101 1011011101 0101110101 1101010101 1101010101 1111011101 1111010101 01110101 10010111 01010111001 11111101 1111010101 01001111101 1101011101 1001010111 11110111 0110010101 110101111 1101010101 1101011101 111110101 1111001111 10111001 011111 1101111101 01011101111 1101110101 01011111001 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 2,565 |
Words | 446 |
Sentences | 20 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 18, 8, 16, 10, 8 |
Lines Amount | 60 |
Letters per line (avg) | 34 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 409 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 89 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:22 min read
- 109 Views
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"A Letter Sent To Mrs. Barber" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/26597/a-letter-sent-to-mrs.-barber>.
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