Old Ben
Sad is old Ben Thistlewaite,Now his day is done,And all his childrenFar away are gone.
He sits beneath his jasmined porch,His stick between his knees,His eyes fixed vacantOn his moss-grown trees.
Grass springs in the green path,His flowers are lean and dry,His thatch hangs in wisps againstThe evening sky.
He has no heart to care now,Though the winds will blowWhistling in his casement,And the rain drip thro'.
He thinks of his old Bettie,How she'd shake her head and say,'You'll live to wish my sharp old tongueCould scold--some day,'
But as in pale high autumn skiesThe swallows float and play,His restless thoughts pass to and fro,But nowhere stay.
Soft, on the morrow, they are gone;His garden then will beDenser and shadier and greener,Greener the moss-grown tree.
Words in this poem
- casement n.
- A window sash opening on hinges affixed to the upright side of the frame into which it is fitted. (Poetically) A window. [Shortened fr. encasement. See Incase 1st Case, and cf. Incasement.]
- drip v. i.
- To fall in drops; as, water drips from the eaves. [Akin to LG. drippen, Dan. dryppe, from a noun. See Drop.]
- nowhere adv.
- Not anywhere; not in any place or state; as, the book is nowhere to be found. [AS. nahwær. See No, and Where.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Old Ben is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Listeners and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #22569; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Walter de la Mare, Old Ben, in The Listeners and Other Poems (1912), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #22569, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/de-la-mare-listeners/old-ben.html, id L17065.
Form and metre
Old Ben is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 6.2 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic trimeter.
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 -AAA thistlewaite · doneA · childrenA · goneA
- 2 -A-A porch · kneesA · vacant · treesA
- 3 -A-A path · dryA · against · skyA
- 5 -A-A bettie · sayA · tongue · dayA
- 6 -A-A skies · playA · fro · stayA
- 7 -A-A gone · beA · greener · treeA
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 trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Sad is old Ben Thistlewaite, | 7 | ······· |
| Now his day is done, | 5 | ····· |
| And all his children | 5 | ···/˘ |
| Far away are gone. | 5 | ·˘/·· |
| He sits beneath his jasmined porch, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| His stick between his knees, | 6 | ······ |
| His eyes fixed vacant | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| On his moss-grown trees. | 5 | ····· |
| Grass springs in the green path, | 6 | ······ |
| His flowers are lean and dry, | 6 | ·/···· |
| His thatch hangs in wisps against | 7 | ······· |
| The evening sky. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| He has no heart to care now, | 7 | ······· |
| Though the winds will blow | 5 | ····· |
| Whistling in his casement, | 6 | /˘··/˘ |
| And the rain drip thro'. | 5 | ····· |
| He thinks of his old Bettie, | 7 | ······· |
| How she'd shake her head and say, | 7 | ······· |
| 'You'll live to wish my sharp old tongue | 8 | ········ |
| Could scold--some day,' | 4 | ···· |
| But as in pale high autumn skies | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The swallows float and play, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| His restless thoughts pass to and fro, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| But nowhere stay. | 4 | ·/·· |
| Soft, on the morrow, they are gone; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| His garden then will be | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Denser and shadier and greener, | 8 | /˘····/˘ |
| Greener the moss-grown tree. | 6 | /˘···· |
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.