Evensong (To B. M.)
Come, let us tell it over,Each to each by the fireside,How that earth has been a swift adventure for us,And the watches of the day as a gay song and a right song,And now the traveller wind has found a bed,And the sheep crowd under the thorn.
Good was the day and our travelling,And now there is evensong to sing.
Night, and along the valleysWatch the eyes of the homesteads.The dark hills are very still and still are the stars.Patiently under the ploughlands the wheat moves and the barley.The secret hour of love is upon the sky,And our thought in praise is aflame.
Sing evensong as well we mayFor our travel upon this Sabbath day.
Earth, we have known you truly,Heard your mutable music,Have been your lovers and felt the savour of you,And you have quickened in us the blood’s fire and the heart’s fire.We have wooed and striven with you and made you oursBy the strength sprung out of your loins.
Lift the latch on its twisted thong,And an end be made of our evensong.
Words in this poem
- fireside n.
- A place near the fire or hearth; home; domestic life or retirement.
- evensong n.
- A song for the evening; the evening service or form of worship (in the Church of England including vespers and compline); also, the time of evensong. Wyclif. [AS. æfensang.]
- patiently adv.
- In a patient manner.
- aflame adv.
- Inflames; glowing with light or passion; ablaze. G. Eliot. [Pref. a- + flame.]
- savour v. t.
- To perceive by the smell or the taste; hence, to perceive; to note. B. Jonson.
- latch v. t.
- To smear; to anoint. [Cf. F. lécher to lick (of German origin). Cf. Lick.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Evensong (To B. M.) is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, 1908-1919, Project Gutenberg ebook #51575; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Drinkwater, Evensong (To B. M.), in Poems, 1908-1919 (1919), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #51575, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/drinkwater-poems/evensong-to-b-m.html, id L23080.
Form and metre
Evensong (To B. M.) is 24 lines in 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 73%).
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.
- 2 AA travellingA · singA
- 4 AA mayA · dayA
- 6 AA thongA · evensongA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Come, let us tell it over, | 7 | ······· |
| Each to each by the fireside, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| How that earth has been a swift adventure for us, | 12 | ·······˘/˘·· |
| And the watches of the day as a gay song and a right song, | 15 | ··/˘··········· |
| And now the traveller wind has found a bed, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And the sheep crowd under the thorn. | 8 | ········ |
| Good was the day and our travelling, | 9 | ·····//˘˘ |
| And now there is evensong to sing. | 9 | ····/˘˘·· |
| Night, and along the valleys | 7 | ··˘/·/˘ |
| Watch the eyes of the homesteads. | 7 | ·····/· |
| The dark hills are very still and still are the stars. | 12 | ····/˘······ |
| Patiently under the ploughlands the wheat moves and the barley. | 14 | /˘··········/˘ |
| The secret hour of love is upon the sky, | 11 | ·/˘/······· |
| And our thought in praise is aflame. | 8 | ·/····˘/ |
| Sing evensong as well we may | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| For our travel upon this Sabbath day. | 10 | ·//˘···/˘· |
| Earth, we have known you truly, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Heard your mutable music, | 7 | ··/˘˘/˘ |
| Have been your lovers and felt the savour of you, | 12 | ···/˘···/˘·· |
| And you have quickened in us the blood’s fire and the heart’s fire. | 14 | ···/˘····/···/ |
| We have wooed and striven with you and made you ours | 12 | ····/˘·····/ |
| By the strength sprung out of your loins. | 8 | ········ |
| Lift the latch on its twisted thong, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And an end be made of our evensong. | 10 | ······//˘˘ |
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