A Wish
I ask not that my bed of deathFrom bands of greedy heirs be free;For these besiege the latest breathOf fortune’s favored sons, not me.
I ask not each kind soul to keepTearless, when of my death he hears.Let those who will, if any, weep!There are worse plagues on earth than tears.
I ask but that my death may findThe freedom to my life denied;Ask but the folly of mankindThen, then at last, to quit my side.
Spare me the whispering, crowded room,The friends who come, and gape, and go;The ceremonious air of gloom,--All which makes death a hideous show!
Nor bring, to see me cease to live,Some doctor full of phrase and fame,To shake his sapient head, and giveThe ill he cannot cure a name.
Nor fetch, to take the accustomed tollOf the poor sinner bound for death,His brother-doctor of the soul,To canvass with official breathThe future and its viewless things,--That undiscovered mysteryWhich one who feels death’s winnowing wingsMust needs read clearer, sure, than he!
Bring none of these; but let me be,While all around in silence lies,Moved to the window near, and seeOnce more, before my dying eyes,--
Bathed in the sacred dews of mornThe wide aërial landscape spread,--The world which was ere I was born,The world which lasts when I am dead;
Which never was the friend of one,Nor promised love it could not give,But lit for all its generous sun,And lived itself, and made us live.
There let me gaze, till I becomeIn soul, with what I gaze on, wed!To feel the universe my home;To have before my mind--instead
Of the sick-room, the mortal strife,The turmoil for a little breath--The pure eternal course of life,Not human combatings with death!
Thus feeling, gazing, might I growComposed, refreshed, ennobled, clear;Then willing let my spirit goTo work or wait elsewhere or here!
Words in this poem
- tearless a.
- Shedding no tears; free from tears; unfeeling.
- sapient a.
- Wise; sage; discerning; -- often in irony or contempt. [L. sapiens, -entis, p.pr. of sapere to taste to have sense, to know. See Sage, a.]
- sinner n.
- One who has sinned; especially, one who has sinned without repenting; hence, a persistent and incorrigible transgressor; one condemned by the law of God.
- viewless a.
- Not perceivable by the eye; invisible; unseen.
- winnowing n.
- The act of one who, or that which, winnows.
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
- clearer n.
- One who, or that which, clears.
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- generous a.
- Of honorable birth or origin; highborn. [F. généreux, fr. L. generous of noble birth, noble, excellent, magnanimous, fr. genus birth, race: cf. It. generoso. See 2d Gender.]
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- turmoil v. t.
- To harass with commotion; to disquiet; to worry.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Wish is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #54985; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Matthew Arnold, A Wish, in Poems (1849–1867), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54985, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/arnold-poems/a-wish.html, id L07056.
Form and metre
A Wish is 52 lines in 12 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 11 of its 12 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 31% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABAB deathA · freeB · breathA · meB
- 2 ABAB keepA · hearsB · weepA · tearsB
- 3 ABAB findA · deniedB · mankindA · sideB
- 4 ABAB roomA · goB · gloomA · showB
- 5 ABAB liveA · fameB · giveA · nameB
- 6 ABABC-C- tollA · deathB · soulA · breathB · thingsC · mystery · wingsC · he
- 7 ABAB beA · liesB · seeA · eyesB
- 8 ABAB mornA · spreadB · bornA · deadB
- 9 ABAB oneA · giveB · sunA · liveB
- 10 ABAB becomeA · wedB · homeA · insteadB
- 11 ABAB strifeA · breathB · lifeA · deathB
- 12 ABAB growA · clearB · goA · hereB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| I ask not that my bed of death | 8 | ········ |
| From bands of greedy heirs be free; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| For these besiege the latest breath | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| Of fortune’s favored sons, not me. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| I ask not each kind soul to keep | 8 | ········ |
| Tearless, when of my death he hears. | 8 | /˘······ |
| Let those who will, if any, weep! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| There are worse plagues on earth than tears. | 8 | ········ |
| I ask but that my death may find | 8 | ········ |
| The freedom to my life denied; | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Ask but the folly of mankind | 8 | ···/˘·// |
| Then, then at last, to quit my side. | 8 | ········ |
| Spare me the whispering, crowded room, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| The friends who come, and gape, and go; | 8 | ········ |
| The ceremonious air of gloom,-- | 8 | ········ |
| All which makes death a hideous show! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Nor bring, to see me cease to live, | 8 | ········ |
| Some doctor full of phrase and fame, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| To shake his sapient head, and give | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| The ill he cannot cure a name. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Nor fetch, to take the accustomed toll | 9 | ·····˘/˘· |
| Of the poor sinner bound for death, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| His brother-doctor of the soul, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| To canvass with official breath | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| The future and its viewless things,-- | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| That undiscovered mystery | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘˘ |
| Which one who feels death’s winnowing wings | 9 | ·····/·˘· |
| Must needs read clearer, sure, than he! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Bring none of these; but let me be, | 8 | ········ |
| While all around in silence lies, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Moved to the window near, and see | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Once more, before my dying eyes,-- | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Bathed in the sacred dews of morn | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The wide aërial landscape spread,-- | 7 | ····/·· |
| The world which was ere I was born, | 8 | ········ |
| The world which lasts when I am dead; | 8 | ········ |
| Which never was the friend of one, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Nor promised love it could not give, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| But lit for all its generous sun, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And lived itself, and made us live. | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| There let me gaze, till I become | 8 | ······˘/ |
| In soul, with what I gaze on, wed! | 8 | ········ |
| To feel the universe my home; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| To have before my mind--instead | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Of the sick-room, the mortal strife, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The turmoil for a little breath-- | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| The pure eternal course of life, | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| Not human combatings with death! | 8 | ·/˘˘/˘·· |
| Thus feeling, gazing, might I grow | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Composed, refreshed, ennobled, clear; | 8 | ˘/˘/˘/˘· |
| Then willing let my spirit go | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| To work or wait elsewhere or here! | 8 | ····/··· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.