The Dove
O tender, beauteous dove,Calling such plaintive things!Wilt serve unto my love,And be my love's own wings?
O, but we 're like, poor heart!Thy dear one, too, is far.Remembering, apart,Each weeps beneath the star.
Let not thy rosy feetStay once on any tower,--I am so fain, my sweet,--So weary turns the hour!
Forswear the palm's reposeThat spreadeth over all,And gables where the snowsOf other pinions fall.
Now fail me not, nor fear!He dwelleth near the king.Give him this letter, dear,These kisses on thy wing.
Then seek again my breast,This flaming, throbbing goal,Then come, my dove, and rest--But bring me back his soul!
Words in this poem
- beauteous a.
- Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
- fain v. t.
- To be glad ; to wish or desire.
- forswear v. t.
- To reject or renounce upon oath; hence, to renounce earnestly, determinedly, or with protestations. [OE. forsweren, forswerien, AS. forswerian; pref. for- + swerian to swear. See For-, and Swear, v. i.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Dove 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, The Dove, in Enamels and Cameos and Other Poems (1903), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #29521, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/gautier-enamels-cameos/the-dove.html, id L27033.
Form and metre
The Dove is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
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 ABAB doveA · thingsB · loveA · wingsB
- 2 ABAB heartA · farB · apartA · starB
- 3 ABAB feetA · towerB · sweetA · hourB
- 4 ABAB reposeA · allB · snowsA · fallB
- 5 ABAB fearA · kingB · dearA · wingB
- 6 ABAB breastA · goalB · restA · soulB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| O tender, beauteous dove, | 7 | ·/˘/˘˘· |
| Calling such plaintive things! | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| Wilt serve unto my love, | 6 | ······ |
| And be my love's own wings? | 6 | ······ |
| O, but we 're like, poor heart! | 7 | ······· |
| Thy dear one, too, is far. | 6 | ······ |
| Remembering, apart, | 6 | ˘/˘˘˘/ |
| Each weeps beneath the star. | 6 | ······ |
| Let not thy rosy feet | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Stay once on any tower,-- | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| I am so fain, my sweet,-- | 6 | ······ |
| So weary turns the hour! | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| Forswear the palm's repose | 6 | ˘/··˘/ |
| That spreadeth over all, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And gables where the snows | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Of other pinions fall. | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Now fail me not, nor fear! | 6 | ······ |
| He dwelleth near the king. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Give him this letter, dear, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| These kisses on thy wing. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Then seek again my breast, | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| This flaming, throbbing goal, | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Then come, my dove, and rest-- | 6 | ······ |
| But bring me back his soul! | 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.