There’ll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame
By yon Castle wa’, at the close of the day,I heard a man sing, tho’ his head it was grey:And as he was singing, the tears doon came,—There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
The Church is in ruins, the State is in jars,Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars,We dare na weel say’t, but we ken wha’s to blame,—There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword,But now I greet round their green beds in the yerd;It brak the sweet heart o’ my faithful and dame,—There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
Now life is a burden that bows me down,Sin’ I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown;But till my last moments my words are the same,—There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
Words in this poem
- weel
- A kind of trap or snare for fish, made of twigs. Carew. [Prov. E. weel, weal, a wicker basket to catch eels; prob. akin to willow, and so called as made of willow twigs.]
- braw a.
- Well-dressed; handsome; smart; brave; -- used of persons or their clothing, etc.; as, a braw lad.
- dame n.
- A mistress of a family, who is a lady; a womam in authority; especially, a lady. [F. dame, LL. domna, fr. L. domina mistress, lady, fem. of dominus master, ruler, lord; akin to domare to tame, subdue. See Tame, and cf. Dam mother, Dan, Danger]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
There’ll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame 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, There’ll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/there-ll-never-be-peace-till-jamie-comes-hame.html, id L03221.
Form and metre
There’ll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame is 16 lines in 4 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is AABB, complete in 3 of its 4 stanzas. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 78%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.4 syllables.
See other poems in anapaestic 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 AABB dayA · greyA · cameB · hameB
- 2 --AA jars · wars · blameA · hameA
- 3 AABB swordA · yerdA · dameB · hameB
- 4 AABB downA · crownA · sameB · hameB
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 anapaestic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| By yon Castle wa’, at the close of the day, | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| I heard a man sing, tho’ his head it was grey: | 11 | ··········· |
| And as he was singing, the tears doon came,— | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. | 10 | /˘/···/˘·· |
| The Church is in ruins, the State is in jars, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars, | 10 | ˘/˘˘/˘·/˘· |
| We dare na weel say’t, but we ken wha’s to blame,— | 11 | ··········· |
| There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. | 10 | /˘/···/˘·· |
| My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, | 9 | ·/···/˘·· |
| But now I greet round their green beds in the yerd; | 11 | ··········· |
| It brak the sweet heart o’ my faithful and dame,— | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. | 10 | /˘/···/˘·· |
| Now life is a burden that bows me down, | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Sin’ I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown; | 10 | ·········· |
| But till my last moments my words are the same,— | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. | 10 | /˘/···/˘·· |
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.