Ines de las Sierras: To Petra Camara
In Spain, as Nodier's pen has told,Three officers in night's mid hoursCame on a castle dark and old,With sunken eaves and mouldering towers,
A true Anne Radcliffe type it was,With ruined halls and crumbling roomsAnd windows graven by the clawsOf Goya's bats that ranged the glooms.
Now while they feasted, gazed uponBy ancient portraits standing guardIn their ancestral frames, anonA sudden cry rang thitherward.
Forth from a distant corridorThat many a moonbeam's pallid hueFretted fantastically o'er,A wondrous phantom sped in view.
With bodice high and hair comb-tipped,A woman, running, dancing, hied.Adown the dappled gloom she dipped,--An iridescent form descried.
A languid, dead, voluptuous moodFilled every act's abandon brief,Till at the door she stopped, and stoodSinister, lovely past belief.
Her raiment crumpled in the tombShowed here and there a spangle's foil.At every start a faded bloomDropped petals in her hair's black coil.
A dull scar crossed her bloodless throat,As of a knife. Like rattle chillOf teeth, her castanets she smoteFull in their faces awed and still.
Ah, poor bacchante, sad of grace!So wild the sweetness of her spell,The curved lips in her white faceHad lured a saint from heaven to hell!
Like darkling birds her eyelashesUpon her cheek lay fluttering light.Her kirtle's swinging cadencesDisplayed her limbs of lustrous white.
She bowed amid a mist of gyres,And with her hand, as dancers may,Like flowers she gathered up desires,And grouped them in a bright bouquet.
Was it a wraith or woman seen,A thing of dreams, or blood and flesh,The flame that burst from out the sheenOf beauty's undulating mesh?
It was a phantom of the past,It was the Spain of olden keep,Who, at the sound of cheer at last,Upbounded from her icy sleep,
In one bolero mad, supreme,Rough-resurrected, powerful,Showing beneath her kirtle's gleamThe ribbon wrested from the bull.
About her throat the scar of redThe deathblow was, dealt silentlyUnto a generation deadBy every new-born century.
I saw this self-same phantom fleet,All Paris ringing with her praise,When soft, diaphanous, mystic, sweet,La Petra Camara held its gaze,--
Closing her eyes with languor rare,Impassive, passionate of art,And, like the murdered Ines fair,Dancing, a dagger in her heart.
Words in this poem 20
- graven p. p.
- Carved. Graven image, an idol; an object of worship carved from wood, stone, etc.
- anon adv.
- Straightway; at once. [OE. anoon, anon, anan, lit., in one (moment), fr. AS. on in + an one. See On and One.]
- thitherward adv.
- To ward that place; in that direction.
- corridor n.
- A gallery or passageway leading to several apartments of a house. [F., fr. Itt. corridpore, or Sp. corredor; prop., a runner, hence, a running or long line, a gallery, fr. L. currere to run. See Course.]
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
- bodice n.
- A kind of under waist stiffened with whalebone, etc., worn esp. by women; a corset; stays. [This is properly the plural of body, Oe. bodise a pair of bodies, equiv. to a bodice. Cf. Corset, and see Body.]
- adown adv.
- From a higher to a lower situation; downward; down, to or on the ground. [OE. adun, adoun, adune. AS. of dune off the hill. See Down.]
- dappled a.
- Marked with spots of different shades of color; spotted; variegated; as, a dapple horse.
- bacchante n.
- A priestess of Bacchus.
- darkling a.
- Becoming dark or gloomy; frowing.
- amid prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- wraith n.
- An apparition of a person in his exact likeness, seen before death, or a little after; hence, an apparition; a specter; a vision; an unreal image. [Scot. wraith, warth; probably originally, a guardian angel, from Icel. vörthr a warden, guardian, akin to E. ward. See Ward a guard.]
- sheen v. i.
- To shine; to glisten.
- mesh n.
- The opening or space inclosed by the threads of a net between knot and knot, or the threads inclosing such a space; network; a net. [AS. masc, max, m; akin to D. maas, masche, OHG. masca, Icel. möskvi; cf. Lith. mazgas a knot, megsti to weave nets, to knot.]
- olden a.
- Old; ancient; as, the olden time.
- bolero n.
- A Spanish dance, or the lively music which accompanies it. [Sp.]
- deathblow n.
- A mortal or crushing blow; a stroke or event which kills or destroys.
- diaphanous a.
- Allowing light to pass through, as porcelain; translucent or transparent; pellucid; clear. [Gr. diaphane. See Phantom, and cf. Diaphane, Diaphanic.]
- camara n.
- Chamber; house; -- used in Ca"ma*ra dos Pa"res, and Ca"ma*ra dos De`pu*ta"dos. See Legislature.
- impassive a.
- Not susceptible of pain or suffering; apathetic; impassible; unmoved.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Ines de las Sierras: To Petra Camara is in the public domain. This text is taken from Enamels and Cameos and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #29521, the Agnes Lee translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Théophile Gautier, Ines de las Sierras: To Petra Camara, in Enamels and Cameos and Other Poems (1903), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #29521, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/gautier-enamels-cameos/ines-de-las-sierras-to-petra-camara.html, id L27006.
Form and metre
Ines de las Sierras: To Petra Camara is 68 lines in 17 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
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 toldA · hoursB · oldA · towersB
- 2 ABAB wasA · roomsB · clawsA · gloomsB
- 3 ABAB uponA · guardB · anonA · thitherwardB
- 4 ABAB corridorA · hueB · o'erA · viewB
- 5 ABAB tippedA · hiedB · dippedA · descriedB
- 6 ABAB moodA · briefB · stoodA · beliefB
- 7 ABAB tombA · foilB · bloomA · coilB
- 8 ABAB throatA · chillB · smoteA · stillB
- 9 ABAB graceA · spellB · faceA · hellB
- 10 ABAB eyelashesA · lightB · cadencesA · whiteB
- 11 ABAB gyresA · mayB · desiresA · bouquetB
- 12 ABAB seenA · fleshB · sheenA · meshB
- 13 ABAB pastA · keepB · lastA · sleepB
- 14 ABAB supremeA · powerfulB · gleamA · bullB
- 15 ABAB redA · silentlyB · deadA · centuryB
- 16 ABAB fleetA · praiseB · sweetA · gazeB
- 17 ABAB rareA · artB · fairA · heartB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| In Spain, as Nodier's pen has told, | 8 | ········ |
| Three officers in night's mid hours | 9 | ·/˘˘···/˘ |
| Came on a castle dark and old, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| With sunken eaves and mouldering towers, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘/ |
| A true Anne Radcliffe type it was, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| With ruined halls and crumbling rooms | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And windows graven by the claws | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Of Goya's bats that ranged the glooms. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Now while they feasted, gazed upon | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| By ancient portraits standing guard | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| In their ancestral frames, anon | 8 | ··˘/˘·˘/ |
| A sudden cry rang thitherward. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| Forth from a distant corridor | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| That many a moonbeam's pallid hue | 8 | ·/·/·/˘· |
| Fretted fantastically o'er, | 7 | /˘˘/˘˘· |
| A wondrous phantom sped in view. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| With bodice high and hair comb-tipped, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| A woman, running, dancing, hied. | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| Adown the dappled gloom she dipped,-- | 8 | ˘/··˘··· |
| An iridescent form descried. | 7 | ··˘/˘·· |
| A languid, dead, voluptuous mood | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Filled every act's abandon brief, | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Till at the door she stopped, and stood | 8 | ········ |
| Sinister, lovely past belief. | 8 | /˘˘/˘·˘/ |
| Her raiment crumpled in the tomb | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Showed here and there a spangle's foil. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| At every start a faded bloom | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Dropped petals in her hair's black coil. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| A dull scar crossed her bloodless throat, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| As of a knife. Like rattle chill | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Of teeth, her castanets she smote | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| Full in their faces awed and still. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Ah, poor bacchante, sad of grace! | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| So wild the sweetness of her spell, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The curved lips in her white face | 8 | ··˘····· |
| Had lured a saint from heaven to hell! | 8 | ·····/·· |
| Like darkling birds her eyelashes | 8 | ·/˘··/·˘ |
| Upon her cheek lay fluttering light. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Her kirtle's swinging cadences | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| Displayed her limbs of lustrous white. | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| She bowed amid a mist of gyres, | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| And with her hand, as dancers may, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Like flowers she gathered up desires, | 9 | ·/·/˘·˘/˘ |
| And grouped them in a bright bouquet. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Was it a wraith or woman seen, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| A thing of dreams, or blood and flesh, | 8 | ········ |
| The flame that burst from out the sheen | 8 | ········ |
| Of beauty's undulating mesh? | 8 | ·/˘/˘·˘· |
| It was a phantom of the past, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| It was the Spain of olden keep, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Who, at the sound of cheer at last, | 8 | ········ |
| Upbounded from her icy sleep, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In one bolero mad, supreme, | 8 | ··˘/˘·˘/ |
| Rough-resurrected, powerful, | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘˘ |
| Showing beneath her kirtle's gleam | 7 | /˘····· |
| The ribbon wrested from the bull. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| About her throat the scar of red | 8 | ········ |
| The deathblow was, dealt silently | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| Unto a generation dead | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| By every new-born century. | 9 | ·/˘˘··/˘˘ |
| I saw this self-same phantom fleet, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| All Paris ringing with her praise, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| When soft, diaphanous, mystic, sweet, | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘· |
| La Petra Camara held its gaze,-- | 9 | ·/˘˘/˘··· |
| Closing her eyes with languor rare, | 8 | /˘···/˘· |
| Impassive, passionate of art, | 8 | ˘/˘/˘˘·· |
| And, like the murdered Ines fair, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Dancing, a dagger in her heart. | 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.