The Fires of God I
Time gathers to my name;Along the ways wheredown my feet have passedI see the years with little triumph crowned,Exulting not for perils dared, downcastAnd weary-eyed and desolate for shameOf having been unstirred of all the soundOf the deep music of the men that moveThrough the world’s days in suffering and love.
Poor barren years that brooded over-muchOn your own burden, pale and stricken years--Go down to your oblivion, we partWith no reproach or ceremonial tears.Henceforth my hands are lifted to the touchOf hands that labour with me, and my heartHereafter to the world’s heart shall be setAnd its own pain forget.Time gathers to my name--Days dead are dark; the days to be, a flameOf wonder and of promise, and great criesOf travelling people reach me--I must rise.
Words in this poem
- exulting a.
- Rejoicing triumphantly or exceedingly; exultant.
- stricken p. p.
- Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
- oblivion n.
- The act of forgetting, or the state of being forgotten; cessation of remembrance; forgetfulness. [L. oblivio, akin to oblivisci to forget: cf. OF. oblivion.]
- henceforth adv.
- From this time forward; henceforward.
- hereafter adv.
- In time to come; in some future time or state. [AS. hræfter.]
- 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,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Fires of God I 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, The Fires of God I, in Poems, 1908-1919 (1919), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #51575, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/drinkwater-poems/the-fires-of-god-i.html, id L23034.
Form and metre
The Fires of God I is 20 lines in 2 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 83%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
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 ABCBACDD nameA · passedB · crownedC · downcastB · shameA · soundC · moveD · loveD
- 2 ABCBACDDEEFF muchA · yearsB · partC · tearsB · touchA · heartC · setD · forgetD · nameE · flameE · criesF · riseF
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Time gathers to my name; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Along the ways wheredown my feet have passed | 11 | ˘/········· |
| I see the years with little triumph crowned, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Exulting not for perils dared, downcast | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘·/· |
| And weary-eyed and desolate for shame | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Of having been unstirred of all the sound | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Of the deep music of the men that move | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Through the world’s days in suffering and love. | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Poor barren years that brooded over-much | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| On your own burden, pale and stricken years-- | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Go down to your oblivion, we part | 10 | ····˘/˘˘·· |
| With no reproach or ceremonial tears. | 10 | ··˘/··˘/˘· |
| Henceforth my hands are lifted to the touch | 10 | //···/˘··· |
| Of hands that labour with me, and my heart | 10 | ···/······ |
| Hereafter to the world’s heart shall be set | 10 | ˘/˘······· |
| And its own pain forget. | 6 | ····˘/ |
| Time gathers to my name-- | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Days dead are dark; the days to be, a flame | 10 | ·········· |
| Of wonder and of promise, and great cries | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Of travelling people reach me--I must rise. | 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.