The Arbour
I'll rest me in this sheltered bower,And look upon the clear blue skyThat smiles upon me through the trees,Which stand so thick clustering by;
And view their green and glossy leaves,All glistening in the sunshine fair;And list the rustling of their boughs,So softly whispering through the air.
And while my ear drinks in the sound,My winged soul shall fly away;Reviewing lone departed yearsAs one mild, beaming, autumn day;
And soaring on to future scenes,Like hills and woods, and valleys green,All basking in the summer's sun,But distant still, and dimly seen.
Oh, list! 'tis summer's very breathThat gently shakes the rustling trees--But look! the snow is on the ground--How can I think of scenes like these?
'Tis but the FROST that clears the air,And gives the sky that lovely blue;They're smiling in a WINTER'S sun,Those evergreens of sombre hue.
And winter's chill is on my heart--How can I dream of future bliss?How can my spirit soar away,Confined by such a chain as this?
Words in this poem
- sunshine n.
- The light of the sun, or the place where it shines; the direct rays of the sun, the place where they fall, or the warmth and light which they give.
- 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,]
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- dimly adv.
- In a dim or obscure manner; not brightly or clearly; with imperfect sight.
- sombre n.
- Gloom; obscurity; duskiness; somberness.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Arbour is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, Project Gutenberg ebook #1019; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, The Arbour, in Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1019, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bronte-poems/the-arbour.html, id L13252.
Form and metre
The Arbour is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 11% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 -A-A bower · skyA · trees · byA
- 2 -A-A leaves · fairA · boughs · airA
- 3 -A-A sound · awayA · years · dayA
- 4 -A-A scenes · greenA · sun · seenA
- 5 -A-A breath · treesA · ground · theseA
- 6 -A-A air · blueA · sun · hueA
- 7 -A-A heart · blissA · away · thisA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| I'll rest me in this sheltered bower, | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| And look upon the clear blue sky | 8 | ········ |
| That smiles upon me through the trees, | 8 | ········ |
| Which stand so thick clustering by; | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| And view their green and glossy leaves, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| All glistening in the sunshine fair; | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| And list the rustling of their boughs, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| So softly whispering through the air. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| And while my ear drinks in the sound, | 8 | ········ |
| My winged soul shall fly away; | 8 | ··˘···˘/ |
| Reviewing lone departed years | 8 | ˘/˘·˘/˘· |
| As one mild, beaming, autumn day; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And soaring on to future scenes, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Like hills and woods, and valleys green, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| All basking in the summer's sun, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| But distant still, and dimly seen. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Oh, list! 'tis summer's very breath | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| That gently shakes the rustling trees-- | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| But look! the snow is on the ground-- | 8 | ········ |
| How can I think of scenes like these? | 8 | ········ |
| 'Tis but the FROST that clears the air, | 8 | ········ |
| And gives the sky that lovely blue; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| They're smiling in a WINTER'S sun, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Those evergreens of sombre hue. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And winter's chill is on my heart-- | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| How can I dream of future bliss? | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| How can my spirit soar away, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Confined by such a chain as this? | 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.