Analysis of Channing
John Greenleaf Whittier 1807 (Haverhill) – 1892 (Hampton Falls)
Not vainly did old poets tell,
Nor vainly did old genius paint
God's great and crowning miracle,
The hero and the saint!
For even in a faithless day
Can we our sainted ones discern;
And feel, while with them on the way,
Our hearts within us burn.
And thus the common tongue and pen
Which, world-wide, echo Channing's fame,
As one of Heaven's anointed men,
Have sanctified his name.
In vain shall Rome her portals bar,
And shut from him her saintly prize,
Whom, in the world's great calendar,
All men shall canonize.
By Narragansett's sunny bay,
Beneath his green embowering wood,
To me it seems but yesterday
Since at his side I stood.
The slopes lay green with summer rains,
The western wind blew fresh and free,
And glimmered down the orchard lanes
The white surf of the sea.
With us was one, who, calm and true,
Life's highest purpose understood,
And, like his blessed Master, knew
The joy of doing good.
Unlearned, unknown to lettered fame,
Yet on the lips of England's poor
And toiling millions dwelt his name,
With blessings evermore.
Unknown to power or place, yet where
The sun looks o'er the Carib sea,
It blended with the freeman's prayer
And song of jubilee.
He told of England's sin and wrong,
The ills her suffering children know,
The squalor of the city's throng,
The green field's want and woe.
O'er Channing's face the tenderness
Of sympathetic sorrow stole,
Like a still shadow, passionless,
The sorrow of the soul.
But when the generous Briton told
How hearts were answering to his own,
And Freedom's rising murmur rolled
Up to the dull-eared throne,
I saw, methought, a glad surprise
Thrill through that frail and pain-worn frame,
And, kindling in those deep, calm eyes,
A still and earnest flame.
His few, brief words were such as move
The human heart,--the Faith-sown seeds
Which ripen in the soil of love
To high heroic deeds.
No bars of sect or clime were felt,
The Babel strife of tongues had ceased,
And at one common altar knelt
The Quaker and the priest.
And not in vain: with strength renewed,
And zeal refreshed, and hope less dim,
For that brief meeting, each pursued
The path allotted him.
How echoes yet each Western hill
And vale with Channing's dying word!
How are the hearts of freemen still
By that great warning stirred.
The stranger treads his native soil,
And pleads, with zeal unfelt before,
The honest right of British toil,
The claim of England's poor.
Before him time-wrought barriers fall,
Old fears subside, old hatreds melt,
And, stretching o'er the sea's blue wall,
The Saxon greets the Celt.
The yeoman on the Scottish lines,
The Sheffield grinder, worn and grim,
The delver in the Cornwall mines,
Look up with hope to him.
Swart smiters of the glowing steel,
Dark feeders of the forge's flame,
Pale watchers at the loom and wheel,
Repeat his honored name.
And thus the influence of that hour
Of converse on Rhode Island's strand
Lives in the calm, resistless power
Which moves our fatherland.
God blesses still the generous thought,
And still the fitting word He speeds
And Truth, at His requiring taught,
He quickens into deeds.
Where is the victory of the grave?
What dust upon the spirit lies?
God keeps the sacred life he gave,--
The prophet never dies!
Scheme | XAXA BCBC DEDE XFGF BHBH IJIJ KHKH ELEM NJNJ OPOP XQFQ RSRS FEFE XTXT UVUV WXWX YZYZ 1 M1 L 2 U2 U 3 X3 X 4 E4 E G5 G5 6 T6 T 7 F7 F |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain (92%) |
Metre | 11011101 11011101 11010100 010001 1100011 111010101 01111101 1010111 01010101 1111011 111100101 1111 01110101 01110101 10011100 11110 11101 011111 1111110 111111 01111101 01011101 0110101 011101 11111101 1101001 0111101 011101 1011101 11011101 01010111 11010 011101111 01110011 11010101 01110 11110101 010100101 01010101 011101 10110100 1010101 10111 010101 110100101 110100111 01010101 110111 1110101 11110111 01001111 010101 11110111 01010111 11000111 110101 11111101 01011111 01110101 010001 01011101 01010111 11110101 010101 11011101 0111101 11011101 111101 01011101 0111101 01011101 011101 011111001 11011101 010100111 010101 01010101 01010101 0100101 111111 1110101 1101011 11010101 011101 0101001110 11011101 1001110 111010 110101001 01010111 011101001 110011 110100101 11010101 11010111 010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 3,119 |
Words | 565 |
Sentences | 27 |
Stanzas | 24 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 96 |
Letters per line (avg) | 26 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 105 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 23 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:55 min read
- 101 Views
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"Channing" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 1 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/22873/channing>.
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