Too Late

Matthew Arnold (1822–1888) · 1849–1867

iambic tetrameter · AABB · 8 lines · from Poems

Each on his own strict line we move,And some find death ere they find love;So far apart their lives are thrownFrom the twin soul that halves their own.

And sometimes, by still harder fate,The lovers meet, but meet too late.--Thy heart is mine! True, true! ah, true!--Then, love, thy hand! Ah, no! adieu!

About this text

Too Late 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, Too Late, in Poems (1849–1867), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54985, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/arnold-poems/too-late.html, id L07014.

Form and metre

Too Late is 8 lines in 2 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes AABB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 12% 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. 1 AABB moveA · loveA · thrownB · ownB
  2. 2 AABB fateA · lateA · trueB · adieuB
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.

LineSyl.Stress
Each on his own strict line we move,8········
And some find death ere they find love;8········
So far apart their lives are thrown8··˘/····
From the twin soul that halves their own.8········
And sometimes, by still harder fate,8·/···/˘·
The lovers meet, but meet too late.8·/˘·····
--Thy heart is mine! True, true! ah, true!8········
--Then, love, thy hand! Ah, no! adieu!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.

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