The Painter

iambic pentameter · ABABCDDC · 72 lines · from Poems

‘Summer has done her work,’ the painter cries,And saunters down his garden by the shore.‘The fig is cracked and dry; upon it lies,In crystals, the sweet oozing of its core.The peach melts in its dusk and yellow bloom,Grapes cluster to the earth in diademsOf dripping purple; from their slender stems,’Mid paler leaves, the dark-green citrons loom.

‘Summer has done her work; she, lingering, seesHer shady places glare: yet cooler growThe breezes as they stir the sunny treesWhose shaking twigs their ruby berries sow.Ripe is the fairy-grass, we breathe its seeds,But, hanging o’er the rocks that belt the shore,Safe from the sea, above its bustling roar,Here ripen, still, the blossom-swinging weeds.

‘Pale cressets on the summer waters shine,No ripple there but flings its jet of fire.Rich amber wrack still bronzing in the brineIs tossed ashore in daylight to expire.Here wallowing waves the rocky shoal enwreathe,And in loose spray, cascades of bubbles fall,And steeps of watery, coral-mantled wallDrink of the billow, and the sunshine breathe.

‘Summer has done her work, but mine remains.How shall I shape these ever-murmuring waves,How interweave these rumours and refrains,These wind-tossed echoes of the listening caves?The restless rocky roar, the billow’s splash,And the all-hushing shingle—hark! it blends,In open melody that never ends,The drone, the cavern-whisper, and the clash.

‘And this wide ruin of a once new shoreScooped by new waves to waves of solid rock,Dark-shelving, white-veined, as if marbled o’erBy the fresh surf still trickling block to block!O worn-out waves of night, long set aside—The moulded storm in dead, contending rage,—Like monster-breakers of a by-gone age!And now the gentle waters o’er you ride.

‘Can my hand darken in swift rings of flightThe air-path cut by the black sea-bird’s wings,Then fill the dubious track with influent light,While to my eyes the vanished vision clings?While at their sudden whirr the billows start,Can my hand hush the cymbal-sounding sea,That breaks with louder roar its reverieAs those fast pinions into silence dart?

‘Press on, ye summer waves, still gently swell,—The rainbow’s parent-waters overrun!Can my poor brush your snaky greenness tell,Raising your sidelong bellies to the sun?What touch can pour you in yon pool of blueCircled with surging froth of liquid snow,Which now dissolves to emerald, now belowGlazes the sunken rocks with umber hue?

‘Summer has done her work; dare I begin—Painting a desert, though my pencil cravesTo intertwine all tints with heaven akin?Nature has flung her palette to the waves!Then bid my eyes on cloudy landscape dwell,—Not revel in thy blaze, O beauteous scene!Between thy art and mine is nature’s screen,—Transparent only to the soul,—farewell!

‘Oh! could I paint thee with these ravished eyes,—Catch in my hollow palm thy overflow,Who broadcast fling’st away thy witcheries!Yet would I not desponding turn and go.Be it a feeble hand to thee I raise,’Tis still the worship of the soul within:Summer has done her work,—let mine begin,Though as the grass it wither in thy blaze.’

Words in this poem 25

cracked a.: Coarsely ground or broken; as, cracked wheat.
dripping n.: A falling in drops, or the sound so made.
glare v. i.: To shine with a bright, dazzling light. [OE. glaren, gloren; cf. AS. glær amber, LG. glaren to glow or burn like coals, D. gloren to glimmer; prob. akin to E. glass.]
cooler n.: That which cools, or abates heat or excitement.
sunny a.: Of or pertaining to the sun; proceeding from, or resembling the sun; hence, shining; bright; brilliant; radiant.
bustling a.: Agitated; noisy; tumultuous; characterized by confused activity; as, a bustling crowd.
wrack n.: Wreck; ruin; destruction. [OE. wrak wreck. See Wreck.]
bronzing n.: The act or art of communicating to articles in metal, wood, clay, plaster, etc., the appearance of bronze by means of bronze powders, or imitative painting, or by chemical processes. Tomlinson.
daylight n.: The light of day as opposed to the darkness of night; the light of the sun, as opposed to that of the moon or to artificial light.
billow n.: A great wave or surge of the sea or other water, caused usually by violent wind. [Cf. Icel. bylgja billow, Dan. bölge, Sw. bölja; akin to MHG. bulge billow, bag, and to E. bulge. See Bulge.]
sunshine n.: The light of the sun, or the place where it shines; the direct rays of the sun, the place where they fall, or the warmth and light which they give.
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,]
shingle n.: Round, water-worn, and loose gravel and pebbles, or a collection of roundish stones, such as are common on the seashore and elsewhere. [Prob. from Norw. singl, singling, coarse gravel, small round stones.]
marbled a.: Made of, or faced with, marble.
dubious a.: Doubtful or not settled in opinion; being in doubt; wavering or fluctuating; undetermined. [L. dubius, dubiosus, fr. duo two. See Two, and cf. Doubt.]
whirr v. i.: To whirl round, or revolve, with a whizzing noise; to fly or more quickly with a buzzing or whizzing sound; to whiz.
reverie n.: A loose or irregular train of thought occurring in musing or mediation; deep musing; daydream. [F. réverie, fr. rêver to dream, rave, be light-headed. Cf. Rave.]
overrun v. t.: To run over; to grow or spread over in excess; to invade and occupy; to take possession of; as, the vine overran its trellis; the farm is overrun with witch grass.
snaky a.: Of or pertaining to a snake or snakes; resembling a snake; serpentine; winding.
sidelong adv.: Laterally; obliquely; in the direction of the side. [See Sideling, adv.]
circled a.: Having the form of a circle; round.
palette n.: A thin, oval or square board, or tablet, with a thumb hole at one end for holding it, on which a painter lays and mixes his pigments. [See Pallet a thin board.]
dwell v. i.: To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
beauteous a.: Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
broadcast n.: A casting or throwing seed in all directions, as from the hand in sowing.

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

The Painter is in the public domain. This text is taken from The poems of Thomas Gordon Hake, Project Gutenberg ebook #78947; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Thomas Gordon Hake, The Painter, in Poems (1870), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #78947, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hake-poems/the-painter.html, id L23616.

Form and metre

The Painter is 72 lines in 9 stanzas of 8 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCDDC, complete in 6 of its 9 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).

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 ABABCDDC cries^A · shore^B · lies^A · core^B · bloom^C · diadems^D · stems^D · loom^C
2 ABABCDDC sees^A · grow^B · trees^A · sow^B · seeds^C · shore^D · roar^D · weeds^C
3 ABABCDDC shine^A · fire^B · brine^A · expire^B · enwreathe^C · fall^D · wall^D · breathe^C
4 ABABCDDC remains^A · waves^B · refrains^A · caves^B · splash^C · blends^D · ends^D · clash^C
5 -A-ABCCB shore · rock^A · o'er · block^A · aside^B · rage^C · age^C · ride^B
6 ABABC--C flight^A · wings^B · light^A · clings^B · start^C · sea · reverie · dart^C
7 ABABCDDC swell^A · overrun^B · tell^A · sun^B · blue^C · snow^D · below^D · hue^C
8 ABABCDDC begin^A · craves^B · akin^A · waves^B · dwell^C · scene^D · screen^D · farewell^C
9 -A-ABCCB eyes · overflow^A · witcheries · go^A · raise^B · within^C · begin^C · blaze^B

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
‘Summer has done her work,’ the painter cries,	10	/˘·····/˘·
And saunters down his garden by the shore.	10	·/˘··/˘···
‘The fig is cracked and dry; upon it lies,	10	··········
In crystals, the sweet oozing of its core.	10	·/˘··/˘···
The peach melts in its dusk and yellow bloom,	10	·······/˘·
Grapes cluster to the earth in diadems	10	·/˘····/˘·
Of dripping purple; from their slender stems,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
’Mid paler leaves, the dark-green citrons loom.	10	·······/˘·
‘Summer has done her work; she, lingering, sees	10	/˘·····/˘·
Her shady places glare: yet cooler grow	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
The breezes as they stir the sunny trees	10	·/˘····/˘·
Whose shaking twigs their ruby berries sow.	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Ripe is the fairy-grass, we breathe its seeds,	10	···/˘·····
But, hanging o’er the rocks that belt the shore,	10	·/˘·······
Safe from the sea, above its bustling roar,	10	·······/˘·
Here ripen, still, the blossom-swinging weeds.	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
‘Pale cressets on the summer waters shine,	10	·····/˘/˘·
No ripple there but flings its jet of fire.	11	·/˘······/˘
Rich amber wrack still bronzing in the brine	10	·/˘··/˘···
Is tossed ashore in daylight to expire.	10	··˘/·/··˘/
Here wallowing waves the rocky shoal enwreathe,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
And in loose spray, cascades of bubbles fall,	10	····˘/·/˘·
And steeps of watery, coral-mantled wall	10	···/˘/˘/˘·
Drink of the billow, and the sunshine breathe.	10	···/˘··/··
‘Summer has done her work, but mine remains.	10	/˘······˘/
How shall I shape these ever-murmuring waves,	10	·····//˘˘·
How interweave these rumours and refrains,	10	··˘/··˘·˘/
These wind-tossed echoes of the listening caves?	10	···/˘··/˘·
The restless rocky roar, the billow’s splash,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
And the all-hushing shingle—hark! it blends,	10	···/˘/˘···
In open melody that never ends,	10	·/˘/˘˘·/˘·
The drone, the cavern-whisper, and the clash.	10	···/˘/˘···
‘And this wide ruin of a once new shore	10	···/˘·····
Scooped by new waves to waves of solid rock,	10	·······/˘·
Dark-shelving, white-veined, as if marbled o’er	10	·/˘····/˘·
By the fresh surf still trickling block to block!	10	·····/˘···
O worn-out waves of night, long set aside—	10	········˘/
The moulded storm in dead, contending rage,—	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
Like monster-breakers of a by-gone age!	10	·/˘/˘·····
And now the gentle waters o’er you ride.	10	···/˘/˘···
‘Can my hand darken in swift rings of flight	10	···/˘·····
The air-path cut by the black sea-bird’s wings,	10	··········
Then fill the dubious track with influent light,	11	···/˘··/˘˘·
While to my eyes the vanished vision clings?	10	·····/˘/˘·
While at their sudden whirr the billows start,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Can my hand hush the cymbal-sounding sea,	10	·····/˘/˘·
That breaks with louder roar its reverie	10	···/˘··/˘˘
As those fast pinions into silence dart?	10	···/˘··/˘·
‘Press on, ye summer waves, still gently swell,—	10	···/˘··/˘·
The rainbow’s parent-waters overrun!	10	·/·/˘/˘/˘·
Can my poor brush your snaky greenness tell,	10	·····/˘/˘·
Raising your sidelong bellies to the sun?	10	/˘·/˘/˘···
What touch can pour you in yon pool of blue	10	··········
Circled with surging froth of liquid snow,	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
Which now dissolves to emerald, now below	10	··˘/·/˘···
Glazes the sunken rocks with umber hue?	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
‘Summer has done her work; dare I begin—	10	/˘······˘/
Painting a desert, though my pencil craves	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
To intertwine all tints with heaven akin?	10	·˘˘/···/˘/
Nature has flung her palette to the waves!	10	/˘···/˘···
Then bid my eyes on cloudy landscape dwell,—	10	·····/˘/··
Not revel in thy blaze, O beauteous scene!	11	·/˘····/˘˘·
Between thy art and mine is nature’s screen,—	10	·······/˘·
Transparent only to the soul,—farewell!	10	˘/˘/˘····/
‘Oh! could I paint thee with these ravished eyes,—	10	··········
Catch in my hollow palm thy overflow,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Who broadcast fling’st away thy witcheries!	9	·/··˘/···
Yet would I not desponding turn and go.	10	··········
Be it a feeble hand to thee I raise,	10	···/˘·····
’Tis still the worship of the soul within:	10	···/˘·····
Summer has done her work,—let mine begin,	10	/˘······˘/
Though as the grass it wither in thy blaze.’	10	·····/˘···

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