A Winter Night
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm!How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend youFrom seasons such as these?—Shakespeare.
When biting Boreas, fell and dour,Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r;When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r,Far south the lift,Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r,Or whirling drift:
Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,While burns, wi’ snawy wreaths up-choked,Wild-eddying swirl;Or, thro’ the mining outlet bocked,Down headlong hurl:
List’ning the doors an’ winnocks rattle,I thought me on the ourie cattle,Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattleO’ winter war,And thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattleBeneath a scar.
Ilk happing bird,—wee, helpless thing!That, in the merry months o’ spring,Delighted me to hear thee sing,What comes o’ thee?Whare wilt thou cow’r thy chittering wing,An’ close thy e’e?
Ev’n you, on murdering errands toil’d,Lone from your savage homes exil’d,The blood-stain’d roost, and sheep-cote spoil’dMy heart forgets,While pityless the tempest wildSore on you beats!
Now Phoebe in her midnight reign,Dark-muff’d, view’d the dreary plain;Still crowding thoughts, a pensive train,Rose in my soul,When on my ear this plantive strain,Slow, solemn, stole:—
“Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust!And freeze, thou bitter-biting frost!Descend, ye chilly, smothering snows!Not all your rage, as now united, showsMore hard unkindness unrelenting,Vengeful malice unrepenting.Than heaven-illumin’d Man on brother Man bestows!
“See stern Oppression’s iron grip,Or mad Ambition’s gory hand,Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip,Ev’n in the peaceful rural vale,Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale,How pamper’d Luxury, Flatt’ry by her side,The parasite empoisoning her ear,With all the servile wretches in the rear,Looks o’er proud Property, extended wide;And eyes the simple, rustic hind,Whose toil upholds the glitt’ring show—A creature of another kind,Some coarser substance, unrefin’d—Plac’d for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below!
“Where, where is Love’s fond, tender throe,With lordly Honour’s lofty brow,The pow’rs you proudly own?Is there, beneath Love’s noble name,Can harbour, dark, the selfish aim,To bless himself alone?Mark maiden-innocence a preyTo love-pretending snares:This boasted Honour turns away,Shunning soft Pity’s rising sway,Regardless of the tears and unavailing pray’rs!Perhaps this hour, in Misery’s squalid nest,She strains your infant to her joyless breast,And with a mother’s fears shrinks at the rocking blast!
“Oh ye! who, sunk in beds of down,Feel not a want but what yourselves create,Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate,Whom friends and fortune quite disown!Ill-satisfy’d keen nature’s clamorous call,Stretch’d on his straw, he lays himself to sleep;While through the ragged roof and chinky wall,Chill, o’er his slumbers, piles the drifty heap!Think on the dungeon’s grim confine,Where Guilt and poor Misfortune pine!Guilt, erring man, relenting view,But shall thy legal rage pursueThe wretch, already crushed lowBy cruel Fortune’s undeserved blow?Affliction’s sons are brothers in distress;A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!”
I heard nae mair, for ChanticleerShook off the pouthery snaw,And hail’d the morning with a cheer,A cottage-rousing craw.But deep this truth impress’d my mind—Thro’ all His works abroad,The heart benevolent and kindThe most resembles God.
Words in this poem 28
- bide v. i.
- To dwell; to inhabit; to abide; to stay. [OE. biden, AS. bidan; akin to OHG. bitan, Goth. beidan, Icel. bi; perh. orig., to wait with trust, and akin to bid. See Bid, v. t., and cf. Abide.]
- 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,]
- houseless a.
- Destitute of the shelter of a house; shelterless; homeless; as, a houseless wanderer.
- boreas n.
- The north wind; -- usually a personification. [L. boreas, Gr. .]
- dour a.
- Hard; inflexible; obstinate; sour in aspect; hardy; bold. [Cf. F. dur, L. durus.]
- phoebus n.
- Apollo; the sun god.
- flaky a.
- Consisting of flakes or of small, loose masses; lying, or cleaving off, in flakes or layers; flakelike.
- swirl v. t.
- To whirl, or cause to whirl, as in an eddy. [Akin to Norw. svirla to whirl, freq. of sverra to whirl, Dan. svirre, G. schwirren to whiz, to buzz. *177. See Swarm, n.]
- delighted a.
- Endowed with delight.
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- phoebe n.
- The pewee, or pewit.
- dreary a.
- Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
- stole n.
- A long, loose garment reaching to the feet. [AS. stole, L. stola, Gr. stall. See Stall.]
- unrelenting a.
- Not relenting; unyielding; rigid; hard; stern; cruel.
- vengeful a.
- Vindictive; retributive; revengeful.
- gory a.
- Covered with gore or clotted blood. [From Gore.]
- vale n.
- A tract of low ground, or of land between hills; a valley. [OE. val, F. val, L. vallis; perhaps akin to Gr. Avalanche, Vail to lower, Valley.]
- throe n.
- Extreme pain; violent pang; anguish; agony; especially, one of the pangs of travail in childbirth, or purturition. [OE. , , AS. a threatening, oppression, suffering, perhaps influenced by Icel. a throe, a pang, a longing; cf. AS. to suffer.]
- 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.]
- harbour n.
- A station for rest and entertainment; a place of security and comfort; a refuge; a shelter. [OE herbor, herberwe, herberge, Icel. herbergi (cf. OHG. heriberga), orig., a shelter for soldiers; herr army + bjarga to save, help, defend; akin to AS. here ar]
- squalid a.
- Dirty through neglect; foul; filthy; extremely dirty. [L. squalidus, fr. squalere to be foul or filthy.]
- joyless a.
- Not having joy; not causing joy; unenjoyable.
- chinky a.
- Full of chinks or fissures; gaping; opening in narrow clefts.
- drifty a.
- Full of drifts; tending to form drifts, as snow, and the like.
- dungeon n.
- A close, dark prison, commondonjon or keep of a castle, these being used as prisons. [OE. donjoun highest tower of a castle, tower, prison, F. donjon tower or platform in the midst of a castle, turret, or closet on the top of a house, a keep of a]
- relieve v. t.
- To lift up; to raise again, as one who has fallen; to cause to rise. Piers Plowman. [OE. releven, F. relever to raise again, discharge, relieve, fr. L. relevare to lift up, raise, make light, relieve; pref. re- re- + levare to raise, fr. levis l]
- chanticleer n.
- A cock, so called from the clearness or loundness of his voice in crowing. [F. Chanteclair, name of the cock in the Roman du Renart (Reynard the Fox); chanter to chant + clair clear. See Chant, and Clear.]
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Winter Night is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, Project Gutenberg ebook #1279; 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 Burns, A Winter Night, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/a-winter-night.html, id L03062.
Form and metre
A Winter Night is 100 lines in 12 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 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 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.
- 2 -AABAB dour · bow'rA · glow'rA · liftB · show'rA · driftB
- 3 AA-B-B rockedA · lockedA · choked · swirlB · bocked · hurlB
- 4 AAA-A- rattleA · cattleA · brattleA · war · sprattleA · scar
- 5 AAABAB thingA · springA · singA · theeB · wingA · e'eB
- 6 ABA-B- toil'dA · exil'dB · spoil'dA · forgets · wildB · beats
- 7 AAABAB reignA · plainA · trainA · soulB · strainA · stoleB
- 8 --AABBA gust · frost · snowsA · showsA · unrelentingB · unrepentingB · bestowsA
- 9 A-ABBCDDCEFEEF gripA · hand · slipA · valeB · taleB · sideC · earD · rearD · wideC · hindE · showF · kindE · unrefin'dE · belowF
- 10 --ABBACDCCDEE- throe · brow · ownA · nameB · aimB · aloneA · preyC · snaresD · awayC · swayC · pray'rsD · nestE · breastE · blast
- 11 -AA-BCBCDDEEFF-- down · createA · fateA · disown · callB · sleepC · wallB · heapC · confineD · pineD · viewE · pursueE · lowF · blowF · distress · bliss
- 12 ABABC-C- chanticleerA · snawB · cheerA · crawB · mindC · abroad · kindC · god
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm! | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you | 11 | ···/˘···˘/· |
| From seasons such as these?—Shakespeare. | 8 | ·/˘···/· |
| When biting Boreas, fell and dour, | 9 | ·/˘/˘˘··/ |
| Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Far south the lift, | 4 | ···· |
| Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or whirling drift: | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Ae night the storm the steeples rocked, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked, | 8 | ·/······ |
| While burns, wi’ snawy wreaths up-choked, | 8 | ········ |
| Wild-eddying swirl; | 5 | ·/˘˘· |
| Or, thro’ the mining outlet bocked, | 8 | ···/˘/·· |
| Down headlong hurl: | 4 | ·/·· |
| List’ning the doors an’ winnocks rattle, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| I thought me on the ourie cattle, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| O’ winter war, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| And thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Beneath a scar. | 4 | ···· |
| Ilk happing bird,—wee, helpless thing! | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| That, in the merry months o’ spring, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Delighted me to hear thee sing, | 8 | ˘/˘····· |
| What comes o’ thee? | 4 | ···· |
| Whare wilt thou cow’r thy chittering wing, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| An’ close thy e’e? | 4 | ···· |
| Ev’n you, on murdering errands toil’d, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Lone from your savage homes exil’d, | 8 | ···/˘·/· |
| The blood-stain’d roost, and sheep-cote spoil’d | 8 | ········ |
| My heart forgets, | 4 | ··˘/ |
| While pityless the tempest wild | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Sore on you beats! | 4 | ···· |
| Now Phoebe in her midnight reign, | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| Dark-muff’d, view’d the dreary plain; | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Still crowding thoughts, a pensive train, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Rose in my soul, | 4 | ···· |
| When on my ear this plantive strain, | 8 | ········ |
| Slow, solemn, stole:— | 4 | ·/˘· |
| “Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And freeze, thou bitter-biting frost! | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Descend, ye chilly, smothering snows! | 8 | ˘/·/˘/˘· |
| Not all your rage, as now united, shows | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| More hard unkindness unrelenting, | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| Vengeful malice unrepenting. | 8 | /˘/˘···· |
| Than heaven-illumin’d Man on brother Man bestows! | 12 | ·/˘/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| “See stern Oppression’s iron grip, | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘· |
| Or mad Ambition’s gory hand, | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘· |
| Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip, | 8 | /˘······ |
| Ev’n in the peaceful rural vale, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| How pamper’d Luxury, Flatt’ry by her side, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| The parasite empoisoning her ear, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| With all the servile wretches in the rear, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Looks o’er proud Property, extended wide; | 9 | ···/˘˘/˘· |
| And eyes the simple, rustic hind, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Whose toil upholds the glitt’ring show— | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| A creature of another kind, | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Some coarser substance, unrefin’d— | 8 | ·/˘/˘·˘/ |
| Plac’d for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below! | 12 | ···/˘······· |
| “Where, where is Love’s fond, tender throe, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| With lordly Honour’s lofty brow, | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| The pow’rs you proudly own? | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Is there, beneath Love’s noble name, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Can harbour, dark, the selfish aim, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| To bless himself alone? | 6 | ··˘/˘/ |
| Mark maiden-innocence a prey | 8 | ·/˘/˘˘·· |
| To love-pretending snares: | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| This boasted Honour turns away, | 8 | ·/˘/˘·˘/ |
| Shunning soft Pity’s rising sway, | 8 | /˘·/˘/˘· |
| Regardless of the tears and unavailing pray’rs! | 12 | ˘/˘·····˘/˘· |
| Perhaps this hour, in Misery’s squalid nest, | 10 | ˘/·/·/˘/˘· |
| She strains your infant to her joyless breast, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And with a mother’s fears shrinks at the rocking blast! | 12 | ···/˘····/˘· |
| “Oh ye! who, sunk in beds of down, | 8 | ········ |
| Feel not a want but what yourselves create, | 10 | ······˘/˘/ |
| Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Whom friends and fortune quite disown! | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Ill-satisfy’d keen nature’s clamorous call, | 11 | ·····/˘/˘˘· |
| Stretch’d on his straw, he lays himself to sleep; | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| While through the ragged roof and chinky wall, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Chill, o’er his slumbers, piles the drifty heap! | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Think on the dungeon’s grim confine, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Where Guilt and poor Misfortune pine! | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Guilt, erring man, relenting view, | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| But shall thy legal rage pursue | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| The wretch, already crushed low | 8 | ··˘/˘·˘· |
| By cruel Fortune’s undeserved blow? | 8 | ·//˘·˘/· |
| Affliction’s sons are brothers in distress; | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!” | 11 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘·· |
| I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Shook off the pouthery snaw, | 7 | ······· |
| And hail’d the morning with a cheer, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| A cottage-rousing craw. | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| But deep this truth impress’d my mind— | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Thro’ all His works abroad, | 6 | ····˘/ |
| The heart benevolent and kind | 8 | ··˘/˘˘·· |
| The most resembles God. | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
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