The Last Time I Came O’er the Moor
The last time I came o’er the moor,And left Maria’s dwelling,What throes, what tortures passing cure,Were in my bosom swelling:Condemn’d to see my rival’s reign,While I in secret languish;To feel a fire in every vein,Yet dare not speak my anguish.
Love’s veriest wretch, despairing, IFain, fain, my crime would cover;Th’ unweeting groan, the bursting sigh,Betray the guilty lover.I know my doom must be despair,Thou wilt nor canst relieve me;But oh, Maria, hear my prayer,For Pity’s sake forgive me!
The music of thy tongue I heard,Nor wist while it enslav’d me;I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear’d,Till fear no more had sav’d me:The unwary sailor thus, aghast,The wheeling torrent viewing,’Mid circling horrors yields at lastTo overwhelming ruin.
Words in this poem
- languish v. i.
- To cause to dr Shak.
- despairing a.
- Feeling or expressing despair; hopeless.
- fain v. t.
- To be glad ; to wish or desire.
- unweeting a.
- Unwitting. Chaucer. [See Un- not, and Weet, Wit.]
- 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]
- unwary a.
- Not vigilant against danger; not wary or cautious; unguarded; precipitate; heedless; careless. [Cf. Unware.]
- wheeling n.
- The act of conveying anything, or traveling, on wheels, or in a wheeled vehicle.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Last Time I Came O’er the Moor 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, The Last Time I Came O’er the Moor, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/the-last-time-i-came-o-er-the-moor.html, id L03319.
Form and metre
The Last Time I Came O’er the Moor is 24 lines in 3 stanzas of 8 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCDCD, complete in 2 of its 3 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 96%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.5 syllables. 8 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 8% 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 ABABCDCD moorA · dwellingB · cureA · swellingB · reignC · languishD · veinC · anguishD
- 2 ABABCDCD iA · coverB · sighA · loverB · despairC · meD · prayerC · meD
- 3 -A-AB-B- heard · meA · fear'd · meA · aghastB · viewing · lastB · ruin
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 |
|---|---|---|
| The last time I came o’er the moor, | 8 | ········ |
| And left Maria’s dwelling, | 7 | ··˘/˘/˘ |
| What throes, what tortures passing cure, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Were in my bosom swelling: | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Condemn’d to see my rival’s reign, | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| While I in secret languish; | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| To feel a fire in every vein, | 8 | ···/·/˘· |
| Yet dare not speak my anguish. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Love’s veriest wretch, despairing, I | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Fain, fain, my crime would cover; | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Th’ unweeting groan, the bursting sigh, | 8 | ˘/˘··/˘· |
| Betray the guilty lover. | 7 | ˘/·/˘/˘ |
| I know my doom must be despair, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Thou wilt nor canst relieve me; | 7 | ····˘/· |
| But oh, Maria, hear my prayer, | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| For Pity’s sake forgive me! | 7 | ·/˘·˘/· |
| The music of thy tongue I heard, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Nor wist while it enslav’d me; | 7 | ····˘/· |
| I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear’d, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Till fear no more had sav’d me: | 7 | ······· |
| The unwary sailor thus, aghast, | 9 | ·˘/˘/˘·˘/ |
| The wheeling torrent viewing, | 7 | ·/˘/˘/˘ |
| ’Mid circling horrors yields at last | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| To overwhelming ruin. | 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.