Analysis of Sonnet VIII: Why, Through Each Aching Vein
Mary Darby Robinson 1757 (England) – 1800 (England)
Why, through each aching vein, with lazy pace
Thus steals the languid fountain of my heart,
While, from its source, each wild convulsive start
Tears the scorch'd roses from my burning face?
In vain, O Lesbian Vales! your charms I trace;
Vain is the poet's theme, the sculptor's art;
No more the Lyre its magic can impart,
Though wak'd to sound, with more than mortal grace!
Go, tuneful maids, go bid my Phaon prove
That passion mocks the empty boast of fame;
Tell him no joys are sweet, but joys of love,
Melting the soul, and thrilling all the frame!
Oh! may th'ecstatic thought in bosom move,
And sighs of rapture, fan the blush of shame!
Scheme | ABBAABBACDEDCD |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111011101 1101010111 1111110101 1011011101 01110011111 110101011 1101110101 1111111101 110111111 1101010111 1111111111 1001010101 111101010101 0111010111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 636 |
Words | 118 |
Sentences | 7 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
Lines Amount | 14 |
Letters per line (avg) | 35 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 495 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 116 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 14, 2023
- 36 sec read
- 99 Views
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"Sonnet VIII: Why, Through Each Aching Vein" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/26785/sonnet-viii%3A-why%2C-through-each-aching-vein>.
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