One Day
Today I have been happy. All the dayI held the memory of you, and woveIts laughter with the dancing light o' the spray,And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,And sent you following the white waves of sea,And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth,Stray buds from that old dust of misery,Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth.
So lightly I played with those dark memories,Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old,And love has been betrayed, and murder done,And great kings turned to a little bitter mould.
Words in this poem
- wove
- p. pr. & rare vb. n. of Weave.
- mould n.
- Crumbling, soft, friable earth; esp., earth containing the remains or constituents of organic matter, and suited to the growth of plants; soil. [OE. molde, AS. molde; akin to D. mul, G. mull, mulm, OHG. molt, molta, Icel. mold, Dan. muld, Sw. mull, Goth. mulda, and E. meal flour. See Meal, and cf. Mole a]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
One Day is in the public domain. This text is taken from 1914, and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #33902; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Rupert Brooke, One Day, in 1914 and Other Poems (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #33902, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/brooke-1914/one-day.html, id L04739.
Form and metre
One Day is 14 lines in 2 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 82%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.9 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 14% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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-A--B-B dayA · wove · sprayA · love · sea · worthB · misery · mirthB
- 2 AA-B-B memoriesA · skiesA · stone · oldB · done · mouldB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Today I have been happy. All the day | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| I held the memory of you, and wove | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray, | 11 | ·/˘··/˘···· |
| And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And sent you following the white waves of sea, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Stray buds from that old dust of misery, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth. | 9 | /····/˘/· |
| So lightly I played with those dark memories, | 10 | ·/˘·····/˘ |
| Just as a child, beneath the summer skies, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone, | 10 | ·/·/···/˘· |
| For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old, | 10 | ·······/·· |
| And love has been betrayed, and murder done, | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| And great kings turned to a little bitter mould. | 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.