Life
Oh Life! I breathe thee in the breeze,I feel thee bounding in my veins,I see thee in these stretching trees,These flowers, this still rock's mossy stains.
This stream of odours flowing byFrom clover-field and clumps of pine,This music, thrilling all the sky,From all the morning birds, are thine.
Thou fill'st with joy this little one,That leaps and shouts beside me here,Where Isar's clay-white rivulets runThrough the dark woods like frighted deer.
Ah! must thy mighty breath, that wakesInsect and bird, and flower and tree,From the low trodden dust, and makesTheir daily gladness, pass from me--
Pass, pulse by pulse, till o'er the groundThese limbs, now strong, shall creep with pain,And this fair world of sight and soundSeem fading into night again?
The things, oh LIFE! thou quickenest, allStrive upwards toward the broad bright sky,Upward and outward, and they fallBack to earth's bosom when they die.
All that have borne the touch of death,All that shall live, lie mingled there,Beneath that veil of bloom and breath,That living zone 'twixt earth and air.
There lies my chamber dark and still,The atoms trampled by my feet,There wait, to take the place I fillIn the sweet air and sunshine sweet.
Well, I have had my turn, have beenRaised from the darkness of the clod,And for a glorious moment seenThe brightness of the skirts of God;
And knew the light within my breast,Though wavering oftentimes and dim,The power, the will, that never rest,And cannot die, were all from him.
Dear child! I know that thou wilt grieveTo see me taken from thy love,Wilt seek my grave at Sabbath eve,And weep, and scatter flowers above.
Thy little heart will soon be healed,And being shall be bliss, till thouTo younger forms of life must yieldThe place thou fill'st with beauty now.
When we descend to dust again,Where will the final dwelling beOf Thought and all its memories then,My love for thee, and thine for me?
Words in this poem
- thrilling a.
- Causing a thrill; causing tremulous excitement; deeply moving; as, a thrilling romance.
- 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,]
- fading n.
- An Irish dance; also, the burden of a song.
- 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.
- clod n.
- A lump or mass, especially of earth, turf, or clay. [OE. clodde, latter form of clot. See Clot.]
- glorious a.
- Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
- oftentimes adv.
- Frequently; often; many times. [Often + time. Cf. -wards.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Life is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by William Cullen Bryant, Project Gutenberg ebook #16341; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Cullen Bryant, Life, in Poems (1821–1876), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16341, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bryant-poems/life.html, id L26104.
Form and metre
Life is 52 lines in 13 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 12 of its 13 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%).
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 ABAB breezeA · veinsB · treesA · stainsB
- 2 ABAB byA · pineB · skyA · thineB
- 3 ABAB oneA · hereB · runA · deerB
- 4 ABAB wakesA · treeB · makesA · meB
- 5 ABAB groundA · painB · soundA · againB
- 6 ABAB allA · skyB · fallA · dieB
- 7 ABAB deathA · thereB · breathA · airB
- 8 ABAB stillA · feetB · fillA · sweetB
- 9 -A-A been · clodA · seen · godA
- 10 ABAB breastA · dimB · restA · himB
- 11 ABAB grieveA · loveB · eveA · aboveB
- 12 ABAB healedA · thouB · yieldA · nowB
- 13 ABAB againA · beB · thenA · meB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Oh Life! I breathe thee in the breeze, | 8 | ········ |
| I feel thee bounding in my veins, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| I see thee in these stretching trees, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| These flowers, this still rock's mossy stains. | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| This stream of odours flowing by | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| From clover-field and clumps of pine, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| This music, thrilling all the sky, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| From all the morning birds, are thine. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Thou fill'st with joy this little one, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That leaps and shouts beside me here, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Where Isar's clay-white rivulets run | 9 | ········· |
| Through the dark woods like frighted deer. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Ah! must thy mighty breath, that wakes | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Insect and bird, and flower and tree, | 8 | /····/·· |
| From the low trodden dust, and makes | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Their daily gladness, pass from me-- | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Pass, pulse by pulse, till o'er the ground | 8 | ········ |
| These limbs, now strong, shall creep with pain, | 8 | ········ |
| And this fair world of sight and sound | 8 | ········ |
| Seem fading into night again? | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| The things, oh LIFE! thou quickenest, all | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Strive upwards toward the broad bright sky, | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| Upward and outward, and they fall | 8 | /˘·/˘··· |
| Back to earth's bosom when they die. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| All that have borne the touch of death, | 8 | ········ |
| All that shall live, lie mingled there, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Beneath that veil of bloom and breath, | 8 | ········ |
| That living zone 'twixt earth and air. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| There lies my chamber dark and still, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The atoms trampled by my feet, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| There wait, to take the place I fill | 8 | ········ |
| In the sweet air and sunshine sweet. | 8 | ·····/·· |
| Well, I have had my turn, have been | 8 | ········ |
| Raised from the darkness of the clod, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And for a glorious moment seen | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| The brightness of the skirts of God; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And knew the light within my breast, | 8 | ········ |
| Though wavering oftentimes and dim, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| The power, the will, that never rest, | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| And cannot die, were all from him. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Dear child! I know that thou wilt grieve | 8 | ········ |
| To see me taken from thy love, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Wilt seek my grave at Sabbath eve, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And weep, and scatter flowers above. | 8 | ···/˘/·· |
| Thy little heart will soon be healed, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And being shall be bliss, till thou | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| To younger forms of life must yield | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The place thou fill'st with beauty now. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| When we descend to dust again, | 8 | ··˘/··˘/ |
| Where will the final dwelling be | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Of Thought and all its memories then, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| My love for thee, and thine for me? | 8 | ········ |
Notes from the edition 1
William Cullen Bryant's own notes to his Poems (Project Gutenberg #16341).
- Stanza 3, line 3 Close to the city of Munich, in Bavaria, lies the spacious and beautiful pleasure ground, called the English Garden, in which these lines were written, originally projected and laid out by our countryman, Count Rumford, under the auspices of one of the sovereigns of the country. Winding walks of great extent, pass through close thickets and groves interspersed with lawns; and streams, diverted from the river Isar, traverse the grounds swiftly in various directions, the water of which, stained with the clay of the soil it has corroded in its descent from the upper country, is frequently of a turbid white colour.
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.