Her Answer

Robert Burns (1759–1796) · 1786–1796

iambic tetrameter · 23 lines · from Poems and Songs

O tell na me o’ wind an’ rain,Upbraid na me wi’ cauld disdain,Gae back the gate ye cam again,I winna let ye in, jo.

Chorus—I tell you now this ae night,This ae, ae, ae night;And ance for a’ this ae night,I winna let ye in, jo.

The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,That round the pathless wand’rer poursIs nocht to what poor she endures,That’s trusted faithless man, jo.I tell you now, &c.

The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,Now trodden like the vilest weed—Let simple maid the lesson readThe weird may be her ain, jo.I tell you now, &c.

The bird that charm’d his summer day,Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;Let witless, trusting, Woman sayHow aft her fate’s the same, jo!I tell you now, &c.

Words in this poem

upbraid n.
The act of reproaching; contumely.
pathless a.
Having no beaten path or way; untrodden; impenetrable; as, pathless woods.
witless a.
Destitute of wit or understanding; wanting thought; hence, indiscreet; not under the guidance of judgment.

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

Her Answer 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, Her Answer, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/her-answer.html, id L03414.

Form and metre

Her Answer is 23 lines in 5 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.3 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 13% 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. 1 AAA- rainA · disdainA · againA · jo
  2. 2 AAA- nightA · nightA · nightA · jo
  3. 4 AAA-- meadA · weedA · readA · jo · —
  4. 5 AAA-- dayA · preyA · sayA · jo · —
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.

LineSyl.Stress
O tell na me o’ wind an’ rain,8········
Upbraid na me wi’ cauld disdain,8/·····˘/
Gae back the gate ye cam again,8······˘/
I winna let ye in, jo.7·······
Chorus—I tell you now this ae night,9/˘·······
This ae, ae, ae night;5·····
And ance for a’ this ae night,7·······
I winna let ye in, jo.7·······
The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,9·/˘····/˘
That round the pathless wand’rer pours8···/˘···
Is nocht to what poor she endures,8······˘/
That’s trusted faithless man, jo.7·/˘/˘··
I tell you now, &c.5·····
The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,8·/˘/····
Now trodden like the vilest weed—8·/˘·····
Let simple maid the lesson read8·/˘··/˘·
The weird may be her ain, jo.7·······
I tell you now, &c.5·····
The bird that charm’d his summer day,8·····/˘·
Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;8···/˘/˘·
Let witless, trusting, Woman say8·/˘/˘/˘·
How aft her fate’s the same, jo!7·······
I tell you now, &c.5·····

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.

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