A Confession to a Friend in Trouble
YOUR troubles shrink not, though I feel them lessHere, far away, than when I tarried near;I even smile old smiles—with listlessness—Yet smiles they are, not ghastly mockeries mere.
A thought too strange to house within my brainHaunting its outer precincts I discern:—That I will not show zeal again to learnYour griefs, and sharing them, renew my pain . . .
It goes, like murky bird or buccaneerThat shapes its lawless figure on the main,And each new impulse tends to make outfleeThe unseemly instinct that had lodgment here;Yet, comrade old, can bitterer knowledge beThan that, though banned, such instinct was in me!
Words in this poem
- buccaneer n.
- A robber upon the sea; a pirate; -- a term applied especially to the piratical adventurers who made depredations on the Spaniards in America in the 17th and 18th centuries. [F. boucanier, fr. boucaner to smoke or broil meat and fish, to hunt wild beasts for their skins, boucan a smoking place for meat or fish, gridiron for smoking: ]
- lodgment n.
- The act of lodging, or the state of being lodged. [Cf. F. logement. See Lodge, v.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Confession to a Friend in Trouble is in the public domain. This text is taken from Wessex Poems and Other Verses, Project Gutenberg ebook #3167; 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, A Confession to a Friend in Trouble, in Wessex Poems and Other Verses (1898), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #3167, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hardy-wessex-poems/a-confession-to-a-friend-in-trouble.html, id L04444.
Form and metre
A Confession to a Friend in Trouble is 14 lines in 3 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.9 syllables. 43% 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 ABAB lessA · nearB · listlessnessA · mereB
- 2 ABBA brainA · discernB · learnB · painA
- 3 A-BABB buccaneerA · main · outfleeB · hereA · beB · meB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| YOUR troubles shrink not, though I feel them less | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Here, far away, than when I tarried near; | 9 | ··˘/····· |
| I even smile old smiles—with listlessness— | 9 | ·/······· |
| Yet smiles they are, not ghastly mockeries mere. | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| A thought too strange to house within my brain | 10 | ·········· |
| Haunting its outer precincts I discern: | 9 | /˘·//··˘/ |
| —That I will not show zeal again to learn | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Your griefs, and sharing them, renew my pain . . . | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| It goes, like murky bird or buccaneer | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| That shapes its lawless figure on the main, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| And each new impulse tends to make outflee | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The unseemly instinct that had lodgment here; | 11 | ·˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Yet, comrade old, can bitterer knowledge be | 11 | ·/······/˘· |
| Than that, though banned, such instinct was in me! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
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.