L. E. L.'s Last Question
"Do you think of me as I think of you,My friends, my friends?"--She said it from the sea,The English minstrel in her minstrelsy,While, under brighter skies than erst she knew,Her heart grew dark, and groped there as the blindTo reach across the waves friends left behind--"Do you think of me as I think of you?"
It seemed not much to ask--"as I of you?"We all do ask the same; no eyelids coverWithin the meekest eyes that question over:And little in the world the Loving doBut sit (among the rocks?) and listen forThe echo of their own love evermore--"Do you think of me as I think of you?"
Love-learned she had sung of love and love,--And like a child that, sleeping with dropt headUpon the fairy-book he lately read,Whatever household noises round him move,Hears in his dream some elfin turbulence,--Even so suggestive to her inward sense,All sounds of life assumed one tune of love.
And when the glory of her dream withdrew,When knightly gestes and courtly pageantriesWere broken in her visionary eyesBy tears the solemn seas attested true,--Forgetting that sweet lute beside her hand,She asked not,--"Do you praise me, O my land?"But,--"Think ye of me, friends, as I of you?"
Hers was the hand that played for many a yearLove's silver phrase for England, smooth and well.Would God her heart's more inward oracleIn that lone moment might confirm her dear!For when her questioned friends in agonyMade passionate response, "We think of thee,"Her place was in the dust, too deep to hear.
Could she not wait to catch their answering breath?Was she content, content with ocean's soundWhich dashed its mocking infinite aroundOne thirsty for a little love?--beneathThose stars content, where last her song had gone,--They mute and cold in radiant life, as soonTheir singer was to be, in darksome death?
Bring your vain answers--cry, "We think of thee!"How think ye of her? warm in long agoDelights? or crowned with budding bays? Not so.None smile and none are crowned where lieth she,With all her visions unfulfilled save one,Her childhood's, of the palm-trees in the sun--And lo! their shadow on her sepulchre!
"Do ye think of me as I think of you?"--O friends, O kindred, O dear brotherhoodOf all the world! what are we that we shouldFor covenants of long affection sue?Why press so near each other when the touchIs barred by graves? Not much, and yet too muchIs this "Think of me as I think of you."
But while on mortal lips I shape anewA sigh to mortal issues, verilyAbove the unshaken stars that see us die,A vocal pathos rolls; and HE who drewAll life from dust, and for all tasted death,By death and life and love appealing, saithDo you think of me as I think of you?
Words in this poem
- minstrelsy n.
- The arts and occupation of minstrels; the singing and playing of a minstrel.
- evermore adv.
- During eternity; always; forever; for an indefinite period; at all times; -- often used substantively with for.
- elfin a.
- Relating to elves.
- knightly a.
- Of or pertaining to a knight; becoming a knight; chivalrous; as, a knightly combat; a knightly spirit. [AS. cnihtlic boyish.]
- courtly a.
- Relating or belonging to a court. [From Court.]
- oracle v. i.
- To utter oracles.
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- darksome a.
- Dark; gloomy; obscure; shaded; cheerless.
- sepulchre n.
- The place in which the dead body of a human being is interred, or a place set apart for that purpose; a grave; a tomb. [OE. sepulcre, OF. sepulcre, F. sépulcre, fr. L. sepulcrum, sepulchrum, fr. sepelire to bury.]
- appealing a.
- That appeals; imploring.
- saith
- 3d pers. sing. pres. of Say.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
L. E. L.'s Last Question is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #33363; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Elizabeth Barrett Browning, L. E. L.'s Last Question, in Lady Geraldine's Courtship, and Other Poems (1844), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #33363, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/barrett-browning-poems-2/l-e-l-s-last-question.html, id L24839.
Form and metre
L. E. L.'s Last Question is 63 lines in 9 stanzas of 7 lines each. The commonest rhyme scheme is ABBACCA, in 3 of the 9 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
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 A--ABBA youA · sea · minstrelsy · knewA · blindB · behindB · youA
- 2 A--ABBA youA · cover · over · doA · forB · evermoreB · youA
- 3 ABBACCA loveA · headB · readB · moveA · turbulenceC · senseC · loveA
- 4 ABBACCA withdrewA · pageantriesB · eyesB · trueA · handC · landC · youA
- 5 ABBA--A yearA · wellB · oracleB · dearA · agony · thee · hearA
- 6 ABB---A breathA · soundB · aroundB · beneath · gone · soon · deathA
- 7 ABBACC- theeA · agoB · soB · sheA · oneC · sunC · sepulchre
- 8 ABBACCA youA · brotherhoodB · shouldB · sueA · touchC · muchC · youA
- 9 A--ABBA anewA · verily · die · drewA · deathB · saithB · youA
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| "Do you think of me as I think of you, | 10 | ·········· |
| My friends, my friends?"--She said it from the sea, | 10 | ·········· |
| The English minstrel in her minstrelsy, | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘˘ |
| While, under brighter skies than erst she knew, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Her heart grew dark, and groped there as the blind | 10 | ·········· |
| To reach across the waves friends left behind-- | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| "Do you think of me as I think of you?" | 10 | ·········· |
| It seemed not much to ask--"as I of you?" | 10 | ·········· |
| We all do ask the same; no eyelids cover | 11 | ·······/·/˘ |
| Within the meekest eyes that question over: | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And little in the world the Loving do | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| But sit (among the rocks?) and listen for | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| The echo of their own love evermore-- | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| "Do you think of me as I think of you?" | 10 | ·········· |
| Love-learned she had sung of love and love,-- | 10 | ··˘······· |
| And like a child that, sleeping with dropt head | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Upon the fairy-book he lately read, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Whatever household noises round him move, | 10 | ·/˘/·/˘··· |
| Hears in his dream some elfin turbulence,-- | 10 | ·····/˘/˘˘ |
| Even so suggestive to her inward sense, | 10 | /·˘/˘··/˘· |
| All sounds of life assumed one tune of love. | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| And when the glory of her dream withdrew, | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| When knightly gestes and courtly pageantries | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘˘ |
| Were broken in her visionary eyes | 10 | ·/˘··/˘·˘· |
| By tears the solemn seas attested true,-- | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Forgetting that sweet lute beside her hand, | 10 | ˘/˘···˘/·· |
| She asked not,--"Do you praise me, O my land?" | 10 | ·········· |
| But,--"Think ye of me, friends, as I of you?" | 10 | ·········· |
| Hers was the hand that played for many a year | 10 | ·······/·· |
| Love's silver phrase for England, smooth and well. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Would God her heart's more inward oracle | 10 | ·····/˘/˘˘ |
| In that lone moment might confirm her dear! | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| For when her questioned friends in agony | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| Made passionate response, "We think of thee," | 10 | ·/˘˘˘/···· |
| Her place was in the dust, too deep to hear. | 10 | ·········· |
| Could she not wait to catch their answering breath? | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Was she content, content with ocean's sound | 10 | ··/˘/˘·/˘· |
| Which dashed its mocking infinite around | 10 | ···/˘/˘˘·· |
| One thirsty for a little love?--beneath | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Those stars content, where last her song had gone,-- | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| They mute and cold in radiant life, as soon | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Their singer was to be, in darksome death? | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Bring your vain answers--cry, "We think of thee!" | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| How think ye of her? warm in long ago | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Delights? or crowned with budding bays? Not so. | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| None smile and none are crowned where lieth she, | 10 | ······˘··· |
| With all her visions unfulfilled save one, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| Her childhood's, of the palm-trees in the sun-- | 10 | ·/········ |
| And lo! their shadow on her sepulchre! | 9 | ···/····· |
| "Do ye think of me as I think of you?"-- | 10 | ·········· |
| O friends, O kindred, O dear brotherhood | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Of all the world! what are we that we should | 10 | ·········· |
| For covenants of long affection sue? | 10 | ·/˘˘··˘/˘· |
| Why press so near each other when the touch | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Is barred by graves? Not much, and yet too much | 10 | ·········· |
| Is this "Think of me as I think of you." | 10 | ·········· |
| But while on mortal lips I shape anew | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| A sigh to mortal issues, verily | 10 | ···/˘/˘/˘˘ |
| Above the unshaken stars that see us die, | 11 | ···˘/˘····· |
| A vocal pathos rolls; and HE who drew | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| All life from dust, and for all tasted death, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| By death and life and love appealing, saith | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Do you think of me as I think of you? | 10 | ·········· |
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.