L'Homme De L'Ennui
Forlornly I wander, forlornly I sigh,And droop my head sadly, I cannot tell why:When the first breeze of morning blows fresh in my face,As the wild-waving walks of our woodlands I trace,Reviv'd for the moment I look all around,But my eyes soon grow languid, and fix on the ground.
I have yet no misfortune to rob me of rest,No love discomposes the peace of my breast;Ambition ne'er enter'd the verge of my thought,Nor by honours, by wealth, nor by power am I caught;Those phantoms of folly disturb not my ease,Yet Time is a tortoise, and Life a disease.
With the blessings of youth and of health on my side,A temper untainted by envy or pride;No guilt to corrode, and no foes to molest;There are many who tell me my station is blest.This I cannot dispute; yet without knowing why--I feel that my bosom is big with a sigh.
Oh! why do I see that all knowledge is vain;That Science finds Error still keep in her train;That Imposture or Darkness, with Doubt and Surmise,Will mislead, will perplex, and then baffle the wise,Who often, when labours have shorten'd their span,Declare--not to know--is the province of man?
In life, as in learning, our views are confin'd,Our discernment too weak to discover the mind,Which, subdued and irresolute, keeps out of sight;Or if, for a moment, her presence delight,Our air is too gross for the stranger to stay;And, back to her prison she hurries away!
If my own narrow precincts I seek to explore,My wishes how vain, my attainments how poor!Tenacious of virtue, with caution I move;I correct, and I wrestle, but cannot approve;Till, bewilder'd and faint, I would yield up the rein,But I dare not in peace with my errors remain!
With zeal all awake in the cause of a friend,With warmth unrepress'd by my fear to offend,With sympathy active in hope or distress,How keen and how anxious I cannot express,I shrink, lest an eye should my feelings behold,And my heart seems insensible, selfish and cold.
I strive to be gay, but my efforts are weak,And, sick of existence, for pleasure I seek;I mix with the empty, the loud, and the vain,Partake of their folly, and double my pain.In others I meet with depression and strife;Oh! where shall I seek for the music of life?
Words in this poem
- forlornly adv.
- In a forlorn manner. Pollok.
- sadly adv.
- Wearily; heavily; firmly.
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- molest v. t.
- To trouble; to disturb; to render uneasy; to interfere with; to vex. [F. molester, L. molestare, fr. molestus troublesome, fr. moles a heavy mass, load, burden. See 3d Mole.]
- baffle v. i.
- To cause to undergo a disgraceful punishment, as a recreant knight. [Cf. Lowland Scotch bauchle to treat contemptuously, bauch tasteless, abashed, jaded, Icel. bagr uneasy, poor, or bagr, n., struggle, bægja to push, treat harshl]
- discover v. i.
- To discover or show one's self.
- hurries n.
- A staith or framework from which coal is discharged from cars into vessels.
- explore v. t.
- To seek for or after; to strive to attain by search; to look wisely and carefully for. [L. explorare to explore; ex out+plorare to cry out aloud,prob. orig., to cause to flow; perh. akin to E. flow: cf. F. explorer.]
- wrestle v. i.
- To contend, by grappling with, and striving to trip or throw down, an opponent; as, they wrestled skillfully. [OE. wrestlen, wrastlen, AS. wr, freq. of wr to wrest; akin to OD. wrastelen to wrestle. See Wrest, v. t.]
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
L'Homme De L'Ennui is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #9998; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Matilda Betham, L'Homme De L'Ennui, in Poems (1808), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9998, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/betham-poems/l-homme-de-l-ennui.html, id L23512.
Form and metre
L'Homme De L'Ennui is 48 lines in 8 stanzas of 6 lines each. The rhyme scheme is AABBCC, complete in 7 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 96%).
See other poems in anapaestic 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 AABBCC sighA · whyA · faceB · traceB · aroundC · groundC
- 2 AABBCC restA · breastA · thoughtB · caughtB · easeC · diseaseC
- 3 AABBCC sideA · prideA · molestB · blestB · whyC · sighC
- 4 AABBCC vainA · trainA · surmiseB · wiseB · spanC · manC
- 5 AABBCC confin'dA · mindA · sightB · delightB · stayC · awayC
- 6 --AABB explore · poor · moveA · approveA · reinB · remainB
- 7 AABBCC friendA · offendA · distressB · expressB · beholdC · coldC
- 8 AABBCC weakA · seekA · vainB · painB · strifeC · lifeC
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 anapaestic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Forlornly I wander, forlornly I sigh, | 11 | ˘/˘·/˘˘/˘·· |
| And droop my head sadly, I cannot tell why: | 11 | ····/˘·˘/·· |
| When the first breeze of morning blows fresh in my face, | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| As the wild-waving walks of our woodlands I trace, | 12 | ···/˘··//··· |
| Reviv'd for the moment I look all around, | 11 | ˘/··/˘····· |
| But my eyes soon grow languid, and fix on the ground. | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| I have yet no misfortune to rob me of rest, | 12 | ····˘/˘····· |
| No love discomposes the peace of my breast; | 11 | ··········· |
| Ambition ne'er enter'd the verge of my thought, | 11 | ˘/˘·/˘····· |
| Nor by honours, by wealth, nor by power am I caught; | 12 | ··/˘····/··· |
| Those phantoms of folly disturb not my ease, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘˘/··· |
| Yet Time is a tortoise, and Life a disease. | 11 | ····/˘···˘/ |
| With the blessings of youth and of health on my side, | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| A temper untainted by envy or pride; | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘·/˘·· |
| No guilt to corrode, and no foes to molest; | 11 | ···˘/····˘/ |
| There are many who tell me my station is blest. | 11 | ··/····/˘·· |
| This I cannot dispute; yet without knowing why-- | 11 | ··˘/˘/···/· |
| I feel that my bosom is big with a sigh. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Oh! why do I see that all knowledge is vain; | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| That Science finds Error still keep in her train; | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| That Imposture or Darkness, with Doubt and Surmise, | 12 | ·˘/˘·/˘···˘/ |
| Will mislead, will perplex, and then baffle the wise, | 12 | ·˘/·˘/··/˘·· |
| Who often, when labours have shorten'd their span, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| Declare--not to know--is the province of man? | 11 | ˘/·····/˘·· |
| In life, as in learning, our views are confin'd, | 11 | ····/˘/··˘/ |
| Our discernment too weak to discover the mind, | 12 | /˘/˘···˘/˘·· |
| Which, subdued and irresolute, keeps out of sight; | 12 | ·˘/·˘/˘˘···· |
| Or if, for a moment, her presence delight, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| Our air is too gross for the stranger to stay; | 11 | /······/˘·· |
| And, back to her prison she hurries away! | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| If my own narrow precincts I seek to explore, | 12 | ···/˘/····˘/ |
| My wishes how vain, my attainments how poor! | 11 | ·/˘···˘/˘·· |
| Tenacious of virtue, with caution I move; | 11 | ˘/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| I correct, and I wrestle, but cannot approve; | 12 | ·˘/··/˘·˘/˘/ |
| Till, bewilder'd and faint, I would yield up the rein, | 12 | ·˘/˘········ |
| But I dare not in peace with my errors remain! | 12 | ········/˘˘/ |
| With zeal all awake in the cause of a friend, | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| With warmth unrepress'd by my fear to offend, | 11 | ·········˘/ |
| With sympathy active in hope or distress, | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘···˘/ |
| How keen and how anxious I cannot express, | 11 | ····/˘·˘/˘/ |
| I shrink, lest an eye should my feelings behold, | 11 | ·······/˘˘/ |
| And my heart seems insensible, selfish and cold. | 11 | ····˘/˘/˘·· |
| I strive to be gay, but my efforts are weak, | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| And, sick of existence, for pleasure I seek; | 11 | ···˘/˘·/˘·· |
| I mix with the empty, the loud, and the vain, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Partake of their folly, and double my pain. | 11 | ˘/··/˘·/˘·· |
| In others I meet with depression and strife; | 11 | ·/˘···˘/˘·· |
| Oh! where shall I seek for the music of life? | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
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.