First Impressions
That Sensibility would bring to view,When Love he mention'd;---Love, and Honour true,But Phoebe still was shy; and wish'd to knowMore of the honest Youth, whose manly browShe verily believ'd was Truth's own throne,And all his words as artless as her own;Most true she judg'd; yet, long the Youth forboreDivulging where, and how, he liv'd before;And seem'd to strive his History to hide,Till fair Esteem enlisted on his side.The Miller saw, and mention'd, in his prajse,The prompt fidelity of all his ways;Till in a vacant hour, the Dinner done,One day he jokjng cried, 'Come here, my Son!'Tis pity that so good a Lad as youBeneath my roof should bring disorders new!But here's my Phoebe,--once so light and airy,She'd trip along the passage like a Fairy,--
Has lost her swiftness quite, since here you came:--And yet;... I can't perceive the Girl is lame!The obstacles she meets with still fall thicker:Old as I am I'd turn a corner quicker.'--The Youth blush'd deep; and Phoebe hung her head:The good Man smil'd, and thus again he said:
'Not that I deem it matter of surprise,That you should love to gaze at Phoebe's eyes;But be explicit, Boy; and deal with honour:I feel my happiness depend upon her.When here you came you'd sorrow on your brow;And I've forborne to question you till now.First, then, say what thou art.' He instant bow'd,And thus, in Phoebe's hearing, spoke aloud:
'Thus far experienc'd, Sir, in you I findAll that is generous, fatherly, and kind;And while you look for proofs of real worth,You'll not regard the meanness of my birth.
When, pennyless and sad, you met with me,I'd just escap'd the dangers of the Sea;Resolv'd to try my fortune on the shore:To get my bread; and trust the waves no more.Having no Home, nor Parents, left behind,I'd all my fortune, all my Friends, to find.Keen disappointment wounded me that morn:For, trav'ling near the spot where I was born,I at the well-known door where I was bred,Inquir'd who still was living, who was dead:But first, and most, I sought with anxious fearTidings to gain of her who once was dear;A Girl, with all the meekness of the dove,The constant sharer of my childhood's love;She call'd me Brother:--which I heard with pride,Though now suspect we are not so allied.Thus much I learnt; (no more the churls would say;)She went to service, and she ran away.
Words in this poem
- honour n.
- Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
- phoebe n.
- The pewee, or pewit.
- deem v. t.
- To decide; to judge; to sentence; to condemn. [OE. demen to judge, condemn, AS. d, fr. d doom; akin to OFries. d, OS. ad, D. doemen, OHG. tuommen, Icel. dæma, Sw. dömma, Dan. dömme, Goth. d. See Doom, n., an]
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- aloud adv.
- With a loud voice, or great noise; loudly; audibly. [Pref. a- + loud.]
- generous a.
- Of honorable birth or origin; highborn. [F. généreux, fr. L. generous of noble birth, noble, excellent, magnanimous, fr. genus birth, race: cf. It. generoso. See 2d Gender.]
- fatherly a.
- Like a father in affection and care; paternal; tender; protecting; careful.
- disappointment n.
- The act of disappointing, or the state of being disappointed; defeat or failure of expectation or hope; miscarriage of design or plan; frustration. [Cf. F. désappointement.]
- 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.]
- meekness n.
- The quality or state of being meek.
- sharer n.
- One who shares; a participator; a partaker; also, a divider; a distributer.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
First Impressions is in the public domain. This text is taken from Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs, Project Gutenberg ebook #9093; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Bloomfield, First Impressions, in Rural Tales, Ballads and Songs (1802), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9093, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bloomfield-tales/first-impressions.html, id L09689.
Form and metre
First Impressions is 54 lines in 5 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 89% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 5 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 11% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in heroic couplets, 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 AA--BBCCDD--EEAAFF viewA · trueA · know · brow · throneB · ownB · forboreC · beforeC · hideD · sideD · prajse · ways · doneE · sonE · youA · newA · airyF · fairyF
- 2 AABBCC cameA · lameA · thickerB · quickerB · headC · saidC
- 3 AA--BBCC surpriseA · eyesA · honour · her · browB · nowB · bow'dC · aloudC
- 4 AABB findA · kindA · worthB · birthB
- 5 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHII meA · seaA · shoreB · moreB · behindC · findC · mornD · bornD · bredE · deadE · fearF · dearF · doveG · loveG · prideH · alliedH · sayI · awayI
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 |
|---|---|---|
| That Sensibility would bring to view, | 10 | ··˘/˘˘···· |
| When Love he mention'd;---Love, and Honour true, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| But Phoebe still was shy; and wish'd to know | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| More of the honest Youth, whose manly brow | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| She verily believ'd was Truth's own throne, | 10 | ·/˘˘˘/···· |
| And all his words as artless as her own; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Most true she judg'd; yet, long the Youth forbore | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Divulging where, and how, he liv'd before; | 10 | ˘/˘······· |
| And seem'd to strive his History to hide, | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Till fair Esteem enlisted on his side. | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘··· |
| The Miller saw, and mention'd, in his prajse, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| The prompt fidelity of all his ways; | 10 | ··˘/˘˘···· |
| Till in a vacant hour, the Dinner done, | 10 | ···/˘/·/˘· |
| One day he jokjng cried, 'Come here, my Son! | 9 | ········· |
| 'Tis pity that so good a Lad as you | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Beneath my roof should bring disorders new! | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| But here's my Phoebe,--once so light and airy, | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| She'd trip along the passage like a Fairy,-- | 11 | ··˘/·/˘··/˘ |
| Has lost her swiftness quite, since here you came:-- | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And yet;... I can't perceive the Girl is lame! | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| The obstacles she meets with still fall thicker: | 11 | ·/˘˘·····/˘ |
| Old as I am I'd turn a corner quicker.'-- | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| The Youth blush'd deep; and Phoebe hung her head: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The good Man smil'd, and thus again he said: | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| 'Not that I deem it matter of surprise, | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| That you should love to gaze at Phoebe's eyes; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| But be explicit, Boy; and deal with honour: | 11 | ··˘/˘····/˘ |
| I feel my happiness depend upon her. | 10 | ···/˘˘/··· |
| When here you came you'd sorrow on your brow; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And I've forborne to question you till now. | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| First, then, say what thou art.' He instant bow'd, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And thus, in Phoebe's hearing, spoke aloud: | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| 'Thus far experienc'd, Sir, in you I find | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| All that is generous, fatherly, and kind; | 10 | ···/˘/˘˘·· |
| And while you look for proofs of real worth, | 9 | ········· |
| You'll not regard the meanness of my birth. | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| When, pennyless and sad, you met with me, | 10 | ·········· |
| I'd just escap'd the dangers of the Sea; | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Resolv'd to try my fortune on the shore: | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| To get my bread; and trust the waves no more. | 10 | ·········· |
| Having no Home, nor Parents, left behind, | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| I'd all my fortune, all my Friends, to find. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Keen disappointment wounded me that morn: | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘··· |
| For, trav'ling near the spot where I was born, | 10 | ·········· |
| I at the well-known door where I was bred, | 10 | ·········· |
| Inquir'd who still was living, who was dead: | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| But first, and most, I sought with anxious fear | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Tidings to gain of her who once was dear; | 10 | /˘········ |
| A Girl, with all the meekness of the dove, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The constant sharer of my childhood's love; | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/·· |
| She call'd me Brother:--which I heard with pride, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Though now suspect we are not so allied. | 10 | ··˘/····˘/ |
| Thus much I learnt; (no more the churls would say;) | 10 | ·········· |
| She went to service, and she ran away. | 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.