Stanzas to Painting
O thou by whose expressive artHer perfect image Nature seesIn union with the Graces start,And sweeter by reflection please!
In whose creative hand the huesFresh from yon orient rainbow shine;I bless thee, Promethéan Muse!And call thee brightest of the Nine!
Possessing more than vocal power,Persuasive more than poet’s tongue;Whose lineage, in a raptured hour,From Love, the Sire of Nature, sprung.
Does Hope her high possession meet?Is joy triumphant, sorrow flown?Sweet is the trance, the tremor sweet,When all we love is all our own.
But oh! thou pulse of pleasure dear,Slow throbbing, cold, I feel thee part;Lone absence plants a pang severe,Or death inflicts a keener dart.
Then for a beam of joy to lightIn memory’s sad and wakeful eye!Or banish from the noon of nightHer dreams of deeper agony.
Shall Song its witching cadence roll?Yea, even the tenderest air repeat,That breathed when soul was knit to soul,And heart to heart responsive beat?
What visions rise! to charm, to melt!The lost, the loved, the dead are near!Oh, hush that strain too deeply felt!And cease that solace too severe!
But thou serenely silent art!By heaven and love wast taught to lendA milder solace to the heart,The sacred image of a friend.
All is not lost! if, yet possest,To me that sweet memorial shine:—If close and closer to my breastI hold that idol all divine.
Or, gazing through luxurious tears,Melt o’er the loved departed form,Till death’s cold bosom half appearsWith life, and speech, and spirit warm.
She looks! she lives! this trancèd hour,Her bright eye seems a purer gemThan sparkles on the throne of power,Or glories wealthy diadem.
Yes, Genius, yes! thy mimic aidA treasure to my soul has given,Where beauty’s canonisèd shadeSmiles in the sainted hues of heaven
No spectre forms of pleasure fled,Thy softening, sweetening tints restore;For thou canst give us back the dead,E’en in the loveliest looks they wore.
Then blest be Nature’s guardian Muse,Whose hand her perished grace redeems!Whose tablet of a thousand huesThe mirror of creation seems.
From Love began thy high descent;And lovers, charmed by gifts of thine,Shall bless thee mutely eloquent;And call thee brightest of the Nine!
Words in this poem 17
- sire n.
- A lord, master, or other person in authority. See Sir. [F. sire, originally, an older person. See Sir.]
- flown a.
- Flushed, inflated.
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- keener n.
- A professional mourner who wails at a funeral. [Ireland]
- wakeful a.
- Not sleeping; indisposed to sleep; watchful; vigilant.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- witching a.
- That witches or enchants; suited to enchantment or witchcraft; bewitching.
- responsive a.
- That responds; ready or inclined to respond. [Cf. F. resposif.]
- solace n.
- Comfort in grief; alleviation of grief or anxiety; also, that which relieves in distress; that which cheers or consoles; relief. [OF. solas, ssoulaz, L. solacium, solatium, fr. solari to comfort, console. Cf. Console, v. t.]
- serenely adv.
- In a serene manner; clearly.
- wast
- The second person singular of the verb be, in the indicative mood, imperfect tense; -- now used only in solemn or poetical style.
- closer n.
- One who, or that which, closes; specifically, a boot closer. See under Boot.
- idol n.
- An image or representation of anything. [OE. idole, F. idole, L. idolum, fr. Gr. Wit, and cf. Eidolon.]
- sainted a.
- Consecrated; sacred; holy; pious.
- spectre n.
- Something preternaturally visible; an apparition; a ghost; a phantom. [F. spectre, fr. L. spectrum an appearance, image, specter, fr. specere to look. See Spy, and cf. Spectrum.]
- sweetening n.
- The act of making sweet.
- mutely adv.
- Without uttering words or sounds; in a mute manner; silently.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Stanzas to Painting is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell, Project Gutenberg ebook #59788; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Thomas Campbell, Stanzas to Painting, in The Pleasures of Hope, and Other Poems (1824), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #59788, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/campbell-poems/stanzas-to-painting.html, id L24449.
Form and metre
Stanzas to Painting is 64 lines in 16 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 14 of its 16 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%).
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 ABAB artA · seesB · startA · pleaseB
- 2 ABAB huesA · shineB · museA · nineB
- 3 ABAB powerA · tongueB · hourA · sprungB
- 4 ABAB meetA · flownB · sweetA · ownB
- 5 ABAB dearA · partB · severeA · dartB
- 6 A-A- lightA · eye · nightA · agony
- 7 ABAB rollA · repeatB · soulA · beatB
- 8 ABAB meltA · nearB · feltA · severeB
- 9 ABAB artA · lendB · heartA · friendB
- 10 ABAB possestA · shineB · breastA · divineB
- 11 ABAB tearsA · formB · appearsA · warmB
- 12 ABAB hourA · gemB · powerA · diademB
- 13 A-A- aidA · given · shadeA · heaven
- 14 ABAB fledA · restoreB · deadA · woreB
- 15 ABAB museA · redeemsB · huesA · seemsB
- 16 ABAB descentA · thineB · eloquentA · nineB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| O thou by whose expressive art | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Her perfect image Nature sees | 8 | ·/·/˘/˘· |
| In union with the Graces start, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And sweeter by reflection please! | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| In whose creative hand the hues | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| Fresh from yon orient rainbow shine; | 9 | ···/˘·/·· |
| I bless thee, Promethéan Muse! | 7 | ······· |
| And call thee brightest of the Nine! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Possessing more than vocal power, | 9 | ˘/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Persuasive more than poet’s tongue; | 8 | ˘/˘··/˘· |
| Whose lineage, in a raptured hour, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘/ |
| From Love, the Sire of Nature, sprung. | 8 | ···/·/˘· |
| Does Hope her high possession meet? | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Is joy triumphant, sorrow flown? | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘· |
| Sweet is the trance, the tremor sweet, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| When all we love is all our own. | 8 | ······/· |
| But oh! thou pulse of pleasure dear, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Slow throbbing, cold, I feel thee part; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Lone absence plants a pang severe, | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Or death inflicts a keener dart. | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| Then for a beam of joy to light | 8 | ········ |
| In memory’s sad and wakeful eye! | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Or banish from the noon of night | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Her dreams of deeper agony. | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| Shall Song its witching cadence roll? | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Yea, even the tenderest air repeat, | 8 | ·/·/˘·˘/ |
| That breathed when soul was knit to soul, | 8 | ········ |
| And heart to heart responsive beat? | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| What visions rise! to charm, to melt! | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The lost, the loved, the dead are near! | 8 | ········ |
| Oh, hush that strain too deeply felt! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And cease that solace too severe! | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| But thou serenely silent art! | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘· |
| By heaven and love wast taught to lend | 8 | ·/······ |
| A milder solace to the heart, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| The sacred image of a friend. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| All is not lost! if, yet possest, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| To me that sweet memorial shine:— | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| If close and closer to my breast | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| I hold that idol all divine. | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Or, gazing through luxurious tears, | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Melt o’er the loved departed form, | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Till death’s cold bosom half appears | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| With life, and speech, and spirit warm. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| She looks! she lives! this trancèd hour, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Her bright eye seems a purer gem | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Than sparkles on the throne of power, | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| Or glories wealthy diadem. | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| Yes, Genius, yes! thy mimic aid | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| A treasure to my soul has given, | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| Where beauty’s canonisèd shade | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| Smiles in the sainted hues of heaven | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| No spectre forms of pleasure fled, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Thy softening, sweetening tints restore; | 8 | ·/˘/˘·˘/ |
| For thou canst give us back the dead, | 8 | ········ |
| E’en in the loveliest looks they wore. | 9 | ········· |
| Then blest be Nature’s guardian Muse, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Whose hand her perished grace redeems! | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Whose tablet of a thousand hues | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| The mirror of creation seems. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| From Love began thy high descent; | 8 | ··˘/··˘/ |
| And lovers, charmed by gifts of thine, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Shall bless thee mutely eloquent; | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| And call thee brightest of the Nine! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
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.