Presentiment
With saintly grace and reverent tread,She walked among the graves with me;Her every foot-fall seemed to beA benediction on the dead.
The guardian spirit of the placeShe seemed, and I some ghost forlornSurprised in the untimely mornShe made with her resplendent face.
Moved by some waywardness of will,Three paces from the path apartShe stepped and stood--my prescient heartWas stricken with a passing chill.
The folk-lore of the years agoneRemembering, I smiled and thought:"Who shudders suddenly at naught,His grave is being trod upon."
But now I know that it was moreThan idle fancy. O, my sweet,I did not think such little feetCould make a buried heart so sore!
Words in this poem
- saintly a.
- Like a saint; becoming a holy person.
- ghost n.
- The spirit; the soul of man. [OE. gast, gost, soul, spirit, AS. gast breath, spirit, soul; akin to OS. g spirit, soul, D. geest, G. geist, and prob. to E. gaze, ghastly.]
- forlorn a.
- Deserted abandoned; lost. [OE., p.p. of forlesen to lose utterly, AS. forleósan (p.p. forloren); pref. for- + leósan (in comp.) to lose; cf. D. verliezen to lose, G. verlieren, Sw. förlor]
- 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.]
- prescient a.
- Having knowledge of coming events; foreseeing; conscious beforehand. [L. praesciens, -entis, p. pr. of praescire to foreknow; prae before + scire to know: cf. F. prescient. See Science.]
- stricken p. p.
- Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
- folk n.
- In Anglo-Saxon times, the people of a group of townships or villages; a community; a tribe. [AS. folc; akin to D. volk, OS. & OHG. folk, G. volk, Icel. f, Sw. & Dan. folk, Lith. pulkas crowd, and perh. to E. follow.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Presentiment is in the public domain. This text is taken from Shapes of Clay (1903), Project Gutenberg ebook #12658; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ambrose Bierce, Presentiment, in Shapes of Clay (1903), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #12658, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bierce-shapes-of-clay/presentiment.html, id L28113.
Form and metre
Presentiment is 20 lines in 5 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABBA. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
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 ABBA treadA · meB · beB · deadA
- 2 ABBA placeA · forlornB · mornB · faceA
- 3 ABBA willA · apartB · heartB · chillA
- 4 ABBA agoneA · thoughtB · naughtB · uponA
- 5 ABBA moreA · sweetB · feetB · soreA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| With saintly grace and reverent tread, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| She walked among the graves with me; | 8 | ········ |
| Her every foot-fall seemed to be | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| A benediction on the dead. | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| The guardian spirit of the place | 8 | ·/˘˘/··· |
| She seemed, and I some ghost forlorn | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Surprised in the untimely morn | 8 | ˘/··˘/˘· |
| She made with her resplendent face. | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Moved by some waywardness of will, | 8 | ········ |
| Three paces from the path apart | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| She stepped and stood--my prescient heart | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Was stricken with a passing chill. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| The folk-lore of the years agone | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Remembering, I smiled and thought: | 8 | ˘/˘˘···· |
| "Who shudders suddenly at naught, | 8 | ·/˘/˘˘·· |
| His grave is being trod upon." | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| But now I know that it was more | 8 | ········ |
| Than idle fancy. O, my sweet, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| I did not think such little feet | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Could make a buried heart so sore! | 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.