Castle Gordon
Streams that glide in orient plains,Never bound by Winter’s chains;Glowing here on golden sands,There immix’d with foulest stainsFrom Tyranny’s empurpled hands;These, their richly gleaming waves,I leave to tyrants and their slaves;Give me the stream that sweetly lavesThe banks by Castle Gordon.
Spicy forests, ever gray,Shading from the burning rayHapless wretches sold to toil;Or the ruthless native’s way,Bent on slaughter, blood, and spoil:Woods that ever verdant wave,I leave the tyrant and the slave;Give me the groves that lofty braveThe storms by Castle Gordon.
Wildly here, without control,Nature reigns and rules the whole;In that sober pensive mood,Dearest to the feeling soul,She plants the forest, pours the flood:Life’s poor day I’ll musing raveAnd find at night a sheltering cave,Where waters flow and wild woods wave,By bonie Castle Gordon.
Words in this poem
- hapless a.
- Without hap or luck; luckless; unfortunate; unlucky; unhappy; as, hapless youth; hapless maid.
- ruthless a.
- Having no ruth; cruel; pitiless.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Castle Gordon 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, Castle Gordon, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/castle-gordon.html, id L03099.
Form and metre
Castle Gordon is 27 lines in 3 stanzas of 9 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 95%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.3 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 18% 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 AABABCCC- plainsA · chainsA · sandsB · stainsA · handsB · wavesC · slavesC · lavesC · gordon
- 2 AABABCCC- grayA · rayA · toilB · wayA · spoilB · waveC · slaveC · braveC · gordon
- 3 AA-A-BBB- controlA · wholeA · mood · soulA · flood · raveB · caveB · waveB · gordon
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Streams that glide in orient plains, | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Never bound by Winter’s chains; | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| Glowing here on golden sands, | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| There immix’d with foulest stains | 7 | ····/˘· |
| From Tyranny’s empurpled hands; | 8 | ·/˘˘··˘· |
| These, their richly gleaming waves, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| I leave to tyrants and their slaves; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Give me the stream that sweetly laves | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The banks by Castle Gordon. | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Spicy forests, ever gray, | 7 | /˘/˘/˘· |
| Shading from the burning ray | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| Hapless wretches sold to toil; | 7 | /˘····· |
| Or the ruthless native’s way, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Bent on slaughter, blood, and spoil: | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Woods that ever verdant wave, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| I leave the tyrant and the slave; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Give me the groves that lofty brave | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The storms by Castle Gordon. | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Wildly here, without control, | 7 | /˘···˘/ |
| Nature reigns and rules the whole; | 7 | /˘····· |
| In that sober pensive mood, | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Dearest to the feeling soul, | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| She plants the forest, pours the flood: | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Life’s poor day I’ll musing rave | 7 | ····/˘· |
| And find at night a sheltering cave, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Where waters flow and wild woods wave, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| By bonie Castle Gordon. | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
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.