Happiness
Ah! you do seem to think the ground,Where happiness is best a-vound,Is where the high-peael'd park do reachWi' elem-rows, or clumps o' beech;Or where the coach do stand avoreThe twelve-tunn'd house's lofty door,Or men can ride behin' their houndsVor miles athirt their own wide grounds,An' seldom wi' the lowly;Upon the green that we do tread,Below the welsh-nut's wide-limb'd head,Or grass where apple trees do spread?No, so's; no, no: not high nor low:'Tis where the heart is holy.
'Tis true its veet mid tread the vloor,'Ithin the marble-pillar'd door,Where day do cast, in high-ruf'd halls.His light drough lofty window'd walls;An' wax-white han's do never tireWi' strokes ov heavy work vor hire,An' all that money can avwordDo lwoad the zilver-brighten'd bwoard:Or mid be wi' the lowly,Where turf's a-smwolderen avoreThe back, to warm the stwonen vloorAn' love's at hwome 'ithin the door?No, so's; no, no; not high nor low:'Tis where the heart is holy.
An' ceaere can come 'ithin a ringO' sworded guards, to smite a king,Though he mid hold 'ithin his handsThe zwarmen vo'k o' many lands;Or goo in drough the iron-geaeteAvore the house o' lofty steaete;Or reach the miser that do smileA-builden up his goolden pile;Or else mid smite the lowly,That have noo pow'r to loose or bindAnother's body, or his mind,But only hands to help mankind.If there is rest 'ithin the breast,'Tis where the heart is holy.
Words in this poem
- sworded a.
- Girded with a sword. [Cf. AS. geswurdod.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Happiness is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect, Project Gutenberg ebook #21785; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Barnes, Happiness, in Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect (1844–1862), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #21785, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/barnes-dorset/happiness.html, id L02245.
Form and metre
Happiness is 42 lines in 3 stanzas of 14 lines each. It is in rhyming couplets, 57% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.9 syllables. 8 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 29% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, 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 AABBCCDDEFFF-E groundA · voundA · reachB · beechB · avoreC · doorC · houndsD · groundsD · lowlyE · treadF · headF · spreadF · low · holyE
- 2 ABCCDD--EBAB-E vloorA · doorB · hallsC · wallsC · tireD · hireD · avword · bwoard · lowlyE · avoreB · vloorA · doorB · low · holyE
- 3 AABBCCDDEFFF-E ringA · kingA · handsB · landsB · geaeteC · steaeteC · smileD · pileD · lowlyE · bindF · mindF · mankindF · breast · holyE
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Ah! you do seem to think the ground, | 8 | ········ |
| Where happiness is best a-vound, | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| Is where the high-peael'd park do reach | 8 | ········ |
| Wi' elem-rows, or clumps o' beech; | 8 | ········ |
| Or where the coach do stand avore | 8 | ········ |
| The twelve-tunn'd house's lofty door, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Or men can ride behin' their hounds | 8 | ········ |
| Vor miles athirt their own wide grounds, | 8 | ········ |
| An' seldom wi' the lowly; | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| Upon the green that we do tread, | 8 | ········ |
| Below the welsh-nut's wide-limb'd head, | 8 | ········ |
| Or grass where apple trees do spread? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| No, so's; no, no: not high nor low: | 8 | ········ |
| 'Tis where the heart is holy. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| 'Tis true its veet mid tread the vloor, | 8 | ········ |
| 'Ithin the marble-pillar'd door, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Where day do cast, in high-ruf'd halls. | 8 | ········ |
| His light drough lofty window'd walls; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| An' wax-white han's do never tire | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| Wi' strokes ov heavy work vor hire, | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| An' all that money can avword | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Do lwoad the zilver-brighten'd bwoard: | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or mid be wi' the lowly, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Where turf's a-smwolderen avore | 8 | ········ |
| The back, to warm the stwonen vloor | 8 | ········ |
| An' love's at hwome 'ithin the door? | 8 | ········ |
| No, so's; no, no; not high nor low: | 8 | ········ |
| 'Tis where the heart is holy. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| An' ceaere can come 'ithin a ring | 8 | ········ |
| O' sworded guards, to smite a king, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Though he mid hold 'ithin his hands | 8 | ········ |
| The zwarmen vo'k o' many lands; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or goo in drough the iron-geaete | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Avore the house o' lofty steaete; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or reach the miser that do smile | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| A-builden up his goolden pile; | 8 | ········ |
| Or else mid smite the lowly, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| That have noo pow'r to loose or bind | 8 | ········ |
| Another's body, or his mind, | 8 | ˘/˘/˘··· |
| But only hands to help mankind. | 8 | ·/˘···// |
| If there is rest 'ithin the breast, | 8 | ········ |
| 'Tis where the heart is holy. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
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