Analysis of Address ToThe Devil
Robert Burns 1759 (Alloway) – 1796 (Dumfries)
O thou! whatever title suit thee,-
Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie!
Wha in yon cavern, grim an' sootie,
Clos'd under hatches,
Spairges about the brunstane cootie
To scaud poor wretches!
Hear me, Auld Hangie, for a wee,
An' let poor damned bodies be;
I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie,
E'en to a deil,
To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me,
An' hear us squeel!
Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame;
Far ken'd an' noted is thy name;
An' tho' yon lowin heugh's thy hame,
Thou travels far;
An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame,
Nor blate nor scaur.
Whyles, ranging like a roarin lion,
For prey a' holes an' corners tryin;
Whyles, on the strong-wing' d tempest flyin,
Tirlin' the kirks;
Whyles, in the human bosom pryin,
Unseen thou lurks.
I've heard my rev'rend graunie say,
In lanely glens ye like to stray;
Or whare auld ruin'd castles gray
Nod to the moon,
Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way
Wi' eldritch croon.
When twilight did my graunie summon
To say her pray'rs, douce honest woman!
Aft yont the dike she's heard you bummin,
Wi' eerie drone;
Or, rustlin thro' the boortrees comin,
Wi' heavy groan.
Ae dreary, windy, winter night,
The stars shot down wi' sklentin light,
Wi' you mysel I gat a fright,
Ayont the lough;
Ye like a rash-buss stood in sight,
Wi' waving sugh.
The cudgel in my nieve did shake,
Each bristl'd hair stood like a stake,
When wi' an eldritch, stoor 'Quaick, quaick,'
Amang the springs,
Awa ye squatter'd like a drake,
On whistling wings.
Let warlocks grim an' wither'd hags
Tell how wi' you on ragweed nags
They skim the muirs an' dizzy crags
Wi' wicked speed;
And in kirk-yards renew their leagues,
Owre howket dead.
Thence, countra wives wi' toil an' pain
May plunge an' plunge the kirn in vain;
For oh! the yellow treasure's taen
By witchin skill;
An' dawtet, twal-pint hawkie's gaen
As yell's the bill.
Thence, mystic knots mak great abuse,
On young guidmen, fond, keen, an' croose;
When the best wark-lume i' the house,
By cantraip wit,
Is instant made no worth a louse,
Just at the bit.
When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord,
An' float the jinglin icy-boord,
Then water-kelpie s haunt the foord
By your direction,
An' nighted trav'lers are allur'd
To their destruction.
And aft your moss-travers ing spunkies
Decoy the wight that late an drunk is:
The bleezin, curst, mischievous monkeys
Delude his eyes,
Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
Ne'er mair to rise.
When Masons' mystic word an grip
In storms an' tempests raise you up,
Some cock or cat your rage maun stop,
Or, strange to tell!
The youngest brither ye wad whip
Aff straught to hell!
Lang syne, in Eden'd bonie yard,
When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd,
An all the soul of love they shar'd,
The raptur'd hour,
Sweet on the fragrant flow'ry swaird,
In shady bow'r;
Then you, ye auld snick-drawin dog!
Ye cam to Paradise incog,
And play'd on man a cursed brogue,
(Black be your fa'!)
An gied the infant warld a shog,
Maist ruin'd a'.
D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,
Wi' reeket duds an reestet gizz,
Ye did present your smoutie phiz
Mang better folk,
An' sklented on the man of Uz
Your spitefu' joke?
An' how ye gat him i' your thrall,
An' brak him out o' house and hal',
While scabs and blotches did him gall,
Wi' bitter claw,
An' lows'd his ill-tongued, wicked scaul,
Was warst ava?
But a' your doings to rehearse,
Your wily snares an' fechtin fierce,
Sin' that day Michael did you pierce,
Down to this time,
Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse,
In prose or rhyme.
An' now, Auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin,
A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin,
Some luckless hour will send him linkin,
To your black pit;
But faith! he'll turn a corner jinkin,
An' cheat you yet.
But fare you weel, Auld Nickie-ben!
O wad ye tak a thought an' men'!
Ye aiblins might-I dinna ken-
Still hae a stake:
I'm wae to think upo' yon den,
Ev'n for your sake!
Scheme | AABCBCAAXDADEEEFEFGGGHGHIIIJIJGGGKGKBBBLBLMMMNMNCXCBXBOOGDGDXCPBPBBBBGBGCCXQCQRXXDRDBBBXBFXMMLMSCCCTCTDDDDDSXUUVCVXGGBGBWWWM WM |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11101011 11101110 10110111 11010 101011 1111 1111101 1111101 11110111 11101 11111111 1111 111111111 11110111 1111111 1101 11110111 1111 11010110 11011101 110111101 101 10010101 0111 111111 0111111 11110101 1101 1101011 1101 1111110 110111010 11011111 1101 111011 1101 11010101 0111111 1111101 101 11011101 1101 01001111 11011101 11110111 101 111101 1101 1111101 1111111 11011101 1101 00110111 111 1111111 11110101 1101011 111 111111 1101 11011101 1111111 10111101 111 11011101 1101 1101011 1101101 11011101 11010 111101 11010 01111011 010111111 01110010 0111 10111111 1111 11010111 0111111 11111111 1111 0101111 1111 110111 1110101 11011111 0110 1101011 01011 1111111 111101 0111011 1111 11010101 1100 111111001 111111 1110111 1101 1110111 111 11111111 11111101 11010111 1101 11111101 1110 10110101 1101111 11110111 1111 1101111 0111 1111111110 010111 110101111 1111 11110101 1111 1111111 11110111 111111 1101 1111111 11111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 3,723 |
Words | 701 |
Sentences | 32 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 124, 2 |
Lines Amount | 126 |
Letters per line (avg) | 23 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 1,442 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 348 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:41 min read
- 116 Views
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"Address ToThe Devil" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 6 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/30461/address-tothe-devil>.
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