The Lapse of Time
Lament who will, in fruitless tears,The speed with which our moments fly;I sigh not over vanished years,But watch the years that hasten by.
Look, how they come,--a mingled crowdOf bright and dark, but rapid days;Beneath them, like a summer cloud,The wide world changes as I gaze.
What! grieve that time has brought so soonThe sober age of manhood on!As idly might I weep, at noon,To see the blush of morning gone.
Could I give up the hopes that glowIn prospect like Elysian isles;And let the cheerful future go,With all her promises and smiles?
The future!--cruel were the powerWhose doom would tear thee from my heart.Thou sweetener of the present hour!We cannot--no--we will not part.
Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flightThat makes the changing seasons gay,The grateful speed that brings the night,The swift and glad return of day;
The months that touch, with added grace,This little prattler at my knee,In whose arch eye and speaking faceNew meaning every hour I see;
The years, that o'er each sister landShall lift the country of my birth,And nurse her strength, till she shall standThe pride and pattern of the earth:
Till younger commonwealths, for aid,Shall cling about her ample robe,And from her frown shall shrink afraidThe crowned oppressors of the globe.
True--time will seam and blanch my brow--Well--I shall sit with aged men,And my good glass will tell me howA grizzly beard becomes me then.
And then should no dishonour lieUpon my head, when I am gray,Love yet shall watch my fading eye,And smooth the path of my decay.
Then haste thee, Time--'tis kindness allThat speeds thy winged feet so fast:Thy pleasures stay not till they pall,And all thy pains are quickly past.
Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes,And as thy shadowy train depart,The memory of sorrow growsA lighter burden on the heart.
Words in this poem
- fruitless a.
- Lacking, or not bearing, fruit; barren; destitute of offspring; as, a fruitless tree or shrub; a fruitless marriage.
- elysian a.
- Pertaining, or the abode of the blessed after death; hence, yielding the highest pleasures; exceedingly delightful; beatific. [L. Elysius, fr. Elysium.]
- sweetener n.
- One who, or that which, sweetens; one who palliates; that which moderates acrimony.
- prattler n.
- One who prattles. Herbert.
- 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,]
- grizzly a.
- Somewhat gray; grizzled.
- dishonour n.
- Lack of honor; disgrace; ignominy; shame; reproach. [OE. deshonour, dishonour, OF. deshonor, deshonur, F. déshonneur; pref. des- (L. dis-) + honor, honur, F. honneur, fr. L. honor. See Honor.]
- fading n.
- An Irish dance; also, the burden of a song.
- depart v. i.
- To part; to divide; to separate. [OE. departen to divide, part, depart, F. départir to divide, distribute, se départir to separate one's self, depart; pref. dé- (L. de) + partir to part, depart,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Lapse of Time 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, The Lapse of Time, in Poems (1821–1876), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16341, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bryant-poems/the-lapse-of-time.html, id L07282.
Form and metre
The Lapse of Time is 52 lines in 13 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.2 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% 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 ABAB tearsA · flyB · yearsA · byB
- 2 ABAB crowdA · daysB · cloudA · gazeB
- 3 ABAB soonA · onB · noonA · goneB
- 4 ABAB glowA · islesB · goA · smilesB
- 5 ABAB powerA · heartB · hourA · partB
- 6 ABAB flightA · gayB · nightA · dayB
- 7 ABAB graceA · kneeB · faceA · seeB
- 8 ABAB landA · birthB · standA · earthB
- 9 ABAB aidA · robeB · afraidA · globeB
- 10 ABAB browA · menB · howA · thenB
- 11 ABAB lieA · grayB · eyeA · decayB
- 12 ABAB allA · fastB · pallA · pastB
- 13 ABAB woesA · departB · growsA · heartB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Lament who will, in fruitless tears, | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| The speed with which our moments fly; | 8 | ····//˘· |
| I sigh not over vanished years, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| But watch the years that hasten by. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Look, how they come,--a mingled crowd | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Of bright and dark, but rapid days; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Beneath them, like a summer cloud, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The wide world changes as I gaze. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| What! grieve that time has brought so soon | 8 | ········ |
| The sober age of manhood on! | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| As idly might I weep, at noon, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| To see the blush of morning gone. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Could I give up the hopes that glow | 8 | ········ |
| In prospect like Elysian isles; | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| And let the cheerful future go, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| With all her promises and smiles? | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| The future!--cruel were the power | 9 | ·/˘/˘··/˘ |
| Whose doom would tear thee from my heart. | 8 | ········ |
| Thou sweetener of the present hour! | 8 | ·/˘··/˘/ |
| We cannot--no--we will not part. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flight | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That makes the changing seasons gay, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| The grateful speed that brings the night, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The swift and glad return of day; | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| The months that touch, with added grace, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| This little prattler at my knee, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| In whose arch eye and speaking face | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| New meaning every hour I see; | 8 | ·/˘/˘/·· |
| The years, that o'er each sister land | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Shall lift the country of my birth, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And nurse her strength, till she shall stand | 8 | ········ |
| The pride and pattern of the earth: | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Till younger commonwealths, for aid, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Shall cling about her ample robe, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And from her frown shall shrink afraid | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The crowned oppressors of the globe. | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| True--time will seam and blanch my brow-- | 8 | ········ |
| Well--I shall sit with aged men, | 7 | ······· |
| And my good glass will tell me how | 8 | ········ |
| A grizzly beard becomes me then. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| And then should no dishonour lie | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Upon my head, when I am gray, | 8 | ········ |
| Love yet shall watch my fading eye, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And smooth the path of my decay. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Then haste thee, Time--'tis kindness all | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That speeds thy winged feet so fast: | 8 | ····˘··· |
| Thy pleasures stay not till they pall, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And all thy pains are quickly past. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes, | 8 | ····˘//· |
| And as thy shadowy train depart, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| The memory of sorrow grows | 8 | ·/˘˘·/˘· |
| A lighter burden on the heart. | 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.