Had You Wept
HAD you wept; had you but neared me with a frail uncertain ray,Dewy as the face of the dawn, in your large and luminous eye,Then would have come back all the joys the tidings had slain that day,And a new beginning, a fresh fair heaven, have smoothed the thingsawry.But you were less feebly human, and no passionate need for clingingPossessed your soul to overthrow reserve when I came near;Ay, though you suffer as much as I from storms the hours are bringingUpon your heart and mine, I never see you shed a tear.
The deep strong woman is weakest, the weak one is the strong;The weapon of all weapons best for winning, you have not used;Have you never been able, or would you not, through the evil times andlong?Has not the gift been given you, or such gift have you refused?When I bade me not absolve you on that evening or the morrow,Why did you not make war on me with those who weep like rain?You felt too much, so gained no balm for all your torrid sorrow,And hence our deep division, and our dark undying pain.
Words in this poem
- bade
- A form of the pat tense of Bid.
- undying a.
- Not dying; imperishable; unending; immortal; as, the undying souls of men.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Had You Wept is in the public domain. This text is taken from Satires of Circumstance, Lyrics and Reveries, with Miscellaneous Pieces, Project Gutenberg ebook #2863; 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, Had You Wept, in Satires of Circumstance, Lyrics and Reveries (1914), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #2863, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hardy-satires/had-you-wept.html, id L24076.
Form and metre
Had You Wept is 18 lines in 2 stanzas of 9 lines each. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 75%).
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
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 ABA-BCDCD rayA · eyeB · dayA · things · awryB · clingingC · nearD · bringingC · tearD
- 2 AB-ABCDCD strongA · usedB · and · longA · refusedB · morrowC · rainD · sorrowC · painD
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 heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| HAD you wept; had you but neared me with a frail uncertain ray, | 15 | ···········˘/˘· |
| Dewy as the face of the dawn, in your large and luminous eye, | 15 | /˘··········/˘· |
| Then would have come back all the joys the tidings had slain that day, | 15 | ·········/˘···· |
| And a new beginning, a fresh fair heaven, have smoothed the things | 14 | ···˘/˘···/···· |
| awry. | 2 | ˘/ |
| But you were less feebly human, and no passionate need for clinging | 16 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| Possessed your soul to overthrow reserve when I came near; | 14 | ˘/···/˘·˘/···· |
| Ay, though you suffer as much as I from storms the hours are bringing | 16 | ···/˘·······/·/˘ |
| Upon your heart and mine, I never see you shed a tear. | 13 | ·······/····· |
| The deep strong woman is weakest, the weak one is the strong; | 14 | ···/˘·/˘······ |
| The weapon of all weapons best for winning, you have not used; | 15 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘···· |
| Have you never been able, or would you not, through the evil times and | 15 | ··/·/˘······/·· |
| long? | 1 | · |
| Has not the gift been given you, or such gift have you refused? | 14 | ·····/······˘/ |
| When I bade me not absolve you on that evening or the morrow, | 16 | ·····˘/···/˘··/˘ |
| Why did you not make war on me with those who weep like rain? | 14 | ·············· |
| You felt too much, so gained no balm for all your torrid sorrow, | 15 | ···········/˘/˘ |
| And hence our deep division, and our dark undying pain. | 14 | ··/·˘/˘·/·˘/˘· |
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.