Lines to a Coasting Captain
So long harassed by winds and seas,'Tis time, at length, to take your ease,Change ruffian waves for quiet grovesAnd war's loud blast for sylvan loves.
In all your rounds, 'tis passing strangeNo fair one tempts you to a change--Madness it is, you must agree,To lodge alone 'till forty-three.
Old Plato said, no blessing hereCould equal Love--if but sincere;And writings penn'd by heaven, have shownThat man can ne'er be blest alone.
O'er life's meridian have you pass'd;The night of death advances fast!No props you plant for your decline,No partner soothes these cares of thine.
If Neptune's self, who ruled the main,Kept sea-nymphs there to ease his pain;Yourself, who skim that empire o'er,Might surely keep one nymph on shore.
Myrtilla fair, in yonder grove,Has so much beauty, so much love,That, on her lip, the meanest flyIs happier far than you or I.
Words in this poem
- props n.
- A game of chance, in which four sea shells, each called a prop, are used instead of dice.
- yonder adv.
- At a distance, but within view. [OE. yonder, ýonder; cf. OD. ginder, Goth. jaindr there. Yond, adv.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Lines to a Coasting Captain is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Philip Freneau, Poet of the American Revolution. Volume 1 (of 3), Project Gutenberg ebook #38475; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Philip Freneau, Lines to a Coasting Captain, in Columbus to Ferdinand, and other poems (1786–1815), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #38475, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/freneau-poems/lines-to-a-coasting-captain.html, id L26071.
Form and metre
Lines to a Coasting Captain is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is AABB, complete in 3 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%).
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 AA-- seasA · easeA · groves · loves
- 2 AABB strangeA · changeA · agreeB · threeB
- 3 AABB hereA · sincereA · shownB · aloneB
- 4 AABB pass'dA · fastA · declineB · thineB
- 5 AA-- mainA · painA · o'er · shore
- 6 --AA grove · love · flyA · iA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| So long harassed by winds and seas, | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| 'Tis time, at length, to take your ease, | 8 | ········ |
| Change ruffian waves for quiet groves | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And war's loud blast for sylvan loves. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In all your rounds, 'tis passing strange | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| No fair one tempts you to a change-- | 8 | ········ |
| Madness it is, you must agree, | 8 | /˘····˘/ |
| To lodge alone 'till forty-three. | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| Old Plato said, no blessing here | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Could equal Love--if but sincere; | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| And writings penn'd by heaven, have shown | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| That man can ne'er be blest alone. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| O'er life's meridian have you pass'd; | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| The night of death advances fast! | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| No props you plant for your decline, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| No partner soothes these cares of thine. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| If Neptune's self, who ruled the main, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Kept sea-nymphs there to ease his pain; | 8 | ········ |
| Yourself, who skim that empire o'er, | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| Might surely keep one nymph on shore. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Myrtilla fair, in yonder grove, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Has so much beauty, so much love, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| That, on her lip, the meanest fly | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Is happier far than you or I. | 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.