From the French
Must thou go, my glorious Chief,Severed from thy faithful few?Who can tell thy warrior's grief,Maddening o'er that long adieu?nrWoman's love, and Friendship's zeal,Dear as both have been to me--nsWhat are they to all I feel,With a soldier's faith for thee?nt
Idol of the soldier's soul!First in fight, but mightiest now;nuMany could a world control;Thee alone no doom can bow.By thy side for years I daredDeath; and envied those who fell,When their dying shout was heard,Blessing him they served so well.
Would that I were cold with those,Since this hour I live to see;When the doubts of coward foesnvScarce dare trust a man with thee,Dreading each should set thee free!Oh! although in dungeons pent,All their chains were light to me,Gazing on thy soul unbent.
Would the sycophants of himNow so deaf to duty's prayer,nwWere his borrowed glories dim,In his native darkness share?Were that world this hour his own,All thou calmly dost resign,Could he purchase with that throneHearts like those which still are thine?nx
My Chief, my King, my Friend, adieu!Never did I droop before;Never to my Sovereign sue,As his foes I now implore:All I ask is to divideEvery peril he must brave;Sharing by the hero's sideHis fall--his exile--and his grave.ny
Words in this poem
- glorious a.
- Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
- idol n.
- An image or representation of anything. [OE. idole, F. idole, L. idolum, fr. Gr. Wit, and cf. Eidolon.]
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- pent p. p.
- Penned or shut up; confined; -- often with up. [From Pen, v. t.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
From the French is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 3, Project Gutenberg ebook #21811; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Lord Byron, From the French, in The Giaour, and Other Poems (1816), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #21811, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/byron-works-3/from-the-french.html, id L23979.
Form and metre
From the French is 40 lines in 5 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
See other poems in trochaic 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 A-A-B-B- chiefA · few · griefA · adieu?nr · zealB · — · feelB · thee?nt
- 2 A-A--B-B soulA · now;nu · controlA · bow · dared · fellB · heard · wellB
- 3 -A-AABAB those · seeA · foesnv · theeA · freeA · pentB · meA · unbentB
- 4 A-A-B-B- himA · prayer,nw · dimA · share · ownB · resign · throneB · thine?nx
- 5 ABABC-C- adieuA · beforeB · sueA · imploreB · divideC · brave · sideC · grave.ny
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 trochaic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Must thou go, my glorious Chief, | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| Severed from thy faithful few? | 8 | /˘˘··/˘· |
| Who can tell thy warrior's grief, | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| Maddening o'er that long adieu?nr | 8 | /˘···˘/· |
| Woman's love, and Friendship's zeal, | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| Dear as both have been to me--ns | 8 | ········ |
| What are they to all I feel, | 7 | ······· |
| With a soldier's faith for thee?nt | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Idol of the soldier's soul! | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| First in fight, but mightiest now;nu | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Many could a world control; | 7 | /˘···˘/ |
| Thee alone no doom can bow. | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| By thy side for years I dared | 8 | ·······˘ |
| Death; and envied those who fell, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| When their dying shout was heard, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Blessing him they served so well. | 8 | /˘···˘·· |
| Would that I were cold with those, | 7 | ······· |
| Since this hour I live to see; | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| When the doubts of coward foesnv | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Scarce dare trust a man with thee, | 7 | ······· |
| Dreading each should set thee free! | 7 | /˘····· |
| Oh! although in dungeons pent, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| All their chains were light to me, | 7 | ······· |
| Gazing on thy soul unbent. | 7 | /˘····· |
| Would the sycophants of him | 7 | ······· |
| Now so deaf to duty's prayer,nw | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Were his borrowed glories dim, | 8 | ··/·˘/˘· |
| In his native darkness share? | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Were that world this hour his own, | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| All thou calmly dost resign, | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| Could he purchase with that throne | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Hearts like those which still are thine?nx | 8 | ········ |
| My Chief, my King, my Friend, adieu! | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Never did I droop before; | 7 | /˘····· |
| Never to my Sovereign sue, | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| As his foes I now implore: | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| All I ask is to divide | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Every peril he must brave; | 8 | /˘˘/˘··· |
| Sharing by the hero's side | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| His fall--his exile--and his grave.ny | 9 | ···/····· |
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