Long Plighted
IS it worth while, dear, now,To call for bells, and sally forth arrayedFor marriage-rites—discussed, decried, delayedSo many years?
Is it worth while, dear, now,To stir desire for old fond purposings,By feints that Time still serves for dallyings,Though quittance nears?
Is it worth while, dear, whenThe day being so far spent, so low the sun,The undone thing will soon be as the done,And smiles as tears?
Is it worth while, dear, whenOur cheeks are worn, our early brown is gray;When, meet or part we, none says yea or nay,Or heeds, or cares?
Is it worth while, dear, sinceWe still can climb old Yell’ham’s wooded moundsTogether, as each season steals its roundsAnd disappears?
Is it worth while, dear, sinceAs mates in Mellstock churchyard we can lie,Till the last crash of all things low and highShall end the spheres?
Words in this poem
- quittance v. t.
- To repay; to requite.
- undone a.
- Not done or performed; neglected. [Pref. un- not + done.]
- churchyard n.
- The ground adjoining a church, in which the dead are buried; a cemetery.
- 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
Long Plighted is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems of the Past and the Present, Project Gutenberg ebook #3168; 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 Hardy, Long Plighted, in Poems of the Past and the Present (1901), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #3168, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hardy-past-and-present/long-plighted.html, id L16901.
Form and metre
Long Plighted is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.5 syllables. 38% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 -AAB now · arrayedA · delayedA · yearsB
- 2 ---B now · purposings · dallyings · nearsB
- 3 -CCD when · sunC · doneC · tearsD
- 4 -EED when · grayE · nayE · caresD
- 5 -FFG since · moundsF · roundsF · disappearsG
- 6 -HHG since · lieH · highH · spheresG
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 |
|---|---|---|
| IS it worth while, dear, now, | 6 | ······ |
| To call for bells, and sally forth arrayed | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| For marriage-rites—discussed, decried, delayed | 10 | ·/˘·˘/˘/˘/ |
| So many years? | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Is it worth while, dear, now, | 6 | ······ |
| To stir desire for old fond purposings, | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| By feints that Time still serves for dallyings, | 9 | ········· |
| Though quittance nears? | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Is it worth while, dear, when | 6 | ······ |
| The day being so far spent, so low the sun, | 10 | ··/······· |
| The undone thing will soon be as the done, | 10 | ·˘/······· |
| And smiles as tears? | 4 | ···· |
| Is it worth while, dear, when | 6 | ······ |
| Our cheeks are worn, our early brown is gray; | 10 | /···//˘··· |
| When, meet or part we, none says yea or nay, | 10 | ·········· |
| Or heeds, or cares? | 4 | ···· |
| Is it worth while, dear, since | 6 | ······ |
| We still can climb old Yell’ham’s wooded mounds | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Together, as each season steals its rounds | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘··· |
| And disappears? | 4 | ··˘/ |
| Is it worth while, dear, since | 6 | ······ |
| As mates in Mellstock churchyard we can lie, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Till the last crash of all things low and high | 10 | ·········· |
| Shall end the spheres? | 4 | ···· |
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.