A Phylactery
Wise men I hold those rakes of oldWho, as we read in antique story,When lyres were struck and wine was poured,Set the white Death's Head on the board--Memento mori.
Love well! love truly! and love fast!True love evades the dilatory.Life's bloom flares like a meteor past;A joy so dazzling cannot last--Memento mori.
Stop not to pluck the leaves of bayThat greenly deck the path of glory,The wreath will wither if you stay,So pass along your earnest way--Memento mori.
Hear but not heed, though wild and shrill,The cries of faction transitory;Cleave to YOUR good, eschew YOUR ill,A Hundred Years and all is still--Memento mori.
When Old Age comes with muffled drums,That beat to sleep our tired life's story,On thoughts of dying (Rest is good!),Like old snakes coiled i' the sun, we brood--Memento mori.
Words in this poem
- memento n.
- A hint, suggestion, token, or memorial, to awaken memory; that which reminds or recalls to memory; a souvenir. [L., remember, be mindful, imper. of meminisse to remember. See Mention.]
- greenly adv.
- With a green color; newly; freshly, immaturely.
- eschew v. t.
- To shun; to avoid, as something wrong, or from a feeling of distaste; to keep one's self clear of. [OF. eschever, eschiver, eskiver, F. esquiver, fr. OHG. sciuhen, G. scheuen; akin to E. sky. See Shy, a.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Phylactery is in the public domain. This text is taken from Pike County Ballads and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #6062; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Hay, A Phylactery, in Pike County Ballads and Other Poems (1871), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6062, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hay-pike-county/a-phylactery.html, id L21635.
Form and metre
A Phylactery is 25 lines in 5 stanzas of 5 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAAB, complete in 3 of its 5 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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 -ABBA old · storyA · pouredB · boardB · moriA
- 2 ABAAB fastA · dilatoryB · pastA · lastA · moriB
- 3 ABAAB bayA · gloryB · stayA · wayA · moriB
- 4 ABAAB shrillA · transitoryB · illA · stillA · moriB
- 5 -A--A drums · storyA · good · brood · moriA
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Wise men I hold those rakes of old | 8 | ········ |
| Who, as we read in antique story, | 9 | ·····˘//˘ |
| When lyres were struck and wine was poured, | 8 | ········ |
| Set the white Death's Head on the board-- | 8 | ········ |
| Memento mori. | 5 | ˘/˘/˘ |
| Love well! love truly! and love fast! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| True love evades the dilatory. | 9 | ··˘/·/˘·˘ |
| Life's bloom flares like a meteor past; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| A joy so dazzling cannot last-- | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Memento mori. | 5 | ˘/˘/˘ |
| Stop not to pluck the leaves of bay | 8 | ········ |
| That greenly deck the path of glory, | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| The wreath will wither if you stay, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| So pass along your earnest way-- | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| Memento mori. | 5 | ˘/˘/˘ |
| Hear but not heed, though wild and shrill, | 8 | ········ |
| The cries of faction transitory; | 9 | ···/˘/˘·˘ |
| Cleave to YOUR good, eschew YOUR ill, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| A Hundred Years and all is still-- | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Memento mori. | 5 | ˘/˘/˘ |
| When Old Age comes with muffled drums, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That beat to sleep our tired life's story, | 9 | ····//·/˘ |
| On thoughts of dying (Rest is good!), | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Like old snakes coiled i' the sun, we brood-- | 9 | ········· |
| Memento mori. | 5 | ˘/˘/˘ |
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.