Gertrude; Or, Fidelity Till Death
“Dark lowers our fate,And terrible the storm that gathers o’er us;But nothing, till that latest agonyWhich severs thee from nature, shall unlooseThis fix’d and sacred hold. In thy dark prison-house,In the terrific face of armed law,Yea, on the scaffold, if it needs must be,I never will forsake thee.” Joanna Baillie.
Her hands were clasp’d, her dark eyes raised,The breeze threw back her hair;Up to the fearful wheel she gazed--All that she loved was there.The night was round her clear and cold,The holy heaven above,Its pale stars watching to beholdThe might of earthly love.
“And bid me not depart,” she cried;“My Rudolph, say not so!This is no time to quit thy side--Peace! peace! I cannot go.Hath the world aught for me to fear,When death is on thy brow?The world! what means it? Mine is here--I will not leave thee now.
“I have been with thee in thine hourOf glory and of bliss;Doubt not its memory’s living powerTo strengthen me through this!And thou, mine honour’d love and true,Bear on, bear nobly on!We have the blessed heaven in view,Whose rest shall soon be won.”
And were not these high words to flowFrom woman’s breaking heart?Through all that night of bitterest woeShe bore her lofty part;But oh! with such a glazing eye,With such a curdling cheek--Love, Love! of mortal agonyThou, only thou, shouldst speak!
The wind rose high--but with it roseHer voice, that he might hear:--Perchance that dark hour brought reposeTo happy bosoms near;While she sat striving with despairBeside his tortured form,And pouring her deep soul in prayerForth on the rushing storm.
She wiped the death-damps from his browWith her pale hands and soft,Whose touch upon the lute-chords lowHad still’d his heart so oft.She spread her mantle o’er his breast,She bathed his lips with dew,And on his cheek such kisses press’dAs hope and joy ne’er knew.
Oh! lovely are ye, Love and Faith,Enduring to the last!She had her meed--one smile in death--And his worn spirit pass’d!While even as o’er a martyr’s graveShe knelt on that sad spot,And, weeping, bless’d the God who gaveStrength to forsake it not.
Words in this poem
- 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,]
- unloose v. t.
- To make loose; to loosen; to set free. [1st pref. un- (intensive) + loose.]
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
- depart v. i.
- To part; to divide; to separate. [OE. departen to divide, part, depart, F. départir to divide, distribute, se départir to separate one's self, depart; pref. dé- (L. de) + partir to part, depart,]
- aught n.
- Property; possession. [AS. , fr. agan to own, p. p. ahte.]
- honour n.
- Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
- nobly adv.
- Of noble extraction; as, nobly born or descended.
- meed v. t.
- To reward; to repay. Waytt.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Gertrude; Or, Fidelity Till Death is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Felicia Hemans, Project Gutenberg ebook #66785; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Felicia Hemans, Gertrude; Or, Fidelity Till Death, in Poems (1808–1835), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66785, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hemans-poems/gertrude-or-fidelity-till-death.html, id L19411.
Form and metre
Gertrude; Or, Fidelity Till Death is 64 lines in 8 stanzas of 8 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCDCD, complete in 4 of its 8 stanzas. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in iambic pentameter.
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.
- 2 ABABCDCD raisedA · hairB · gazedA · thereB · coldC · aboveD · beholdC · loveD
- 3 ABABCDCD criedA · soB · sideA · goB · fearC · browD · hereC · nowD
- 4 ABABCDCD hourA · blissB · powerA · thisB · trueC · onD · viewC · wonD
- 5 ABAB-C-C flowA · heartB · woeA · partB · eye · cheekC · agony · speakC
- 6 ABABCDCD roseA · hearB · reposeA · nearB · despairC · formD · prayerC · stormD
- 7 -A-ABCBC brow · softA · low · oftA · breastB · dewC · press'dB · knewC
- 8 -A-ABCBC faith · lastA · death · pass'dA · graveB · spotC · gaveB · notC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| “Dark lowers our fate, | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| And terrible the storm that gathers o’er us; | 10 | ·/˘···/˘·· |
| But nothing, till that latest agony | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘˘ |
| Which severs thee from nature, shall unloose | 10 | ·/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| This fix’d and sacred hold. In thy dark prison-house, | 12 | ···/˘····/˘· |
| In the terrific face of armed law, | 9 | ··˘/˘···· |
| Yea, on the scaffold, if it needs must be, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| I never will forsake thee.” Joanna Baillie. | 11 | ·/·˘/·˘/˘/˘ |
| Her hands were clasp’d, her dark eyes raised, | 8 | ········ |
| The breeze threw back her hair; | 6 | ······ |
| Up to the fearful wheel she gazed-- | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| All that she loved was there. | 6 | ······ |
| The night was round her clear and cold, | 8 | ········ |
| The holy heaven above, | 7 | ·/˘/˘·· |
| Its pale stars watching to behold | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| The might of earthly love. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| “And bid me not depart,” she cried; | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| “My Rudolph, say not so! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| This is no time to quit thy side-- | 8 | ········ |
| Peace! peace! I cannot go. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Hath the world aught for me to fear, | 8 | ········ |
| When death is on thy brow? | 6 | ······ |
| The world! what means it? Mine is here-- | 8 | ········ |
| I will not leave thee now. | 6 | ······ |
| “I have been with thee in thine hour | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Of glory and of bliss; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Doubt not its memory’s living power | 10 | ···/˘˘/˘/˘ |
| To strengthen me through this! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And thou, mine honour’d love and true, | 8 | ········ |
| Bear on, bear nobly on! | 6 | ···/˘· |
| We have the blessed heaven in view, | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Whose rest shall soon be won.” | 6 | ······ |
| And were not these high words to flow | 8 | ········ |
| From woman’s breaking heart? | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Through all that night of bitterest woe | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| She bore her lofty part; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| But oh! with such a glazing eye, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| With such a curdling cheek-- | 6 | ······ |
| Love, Love! of mortal agony | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| Thou, only thou, shouldst speak! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The wind rose high--but with it rose | 8 | ········ |
| Her voice, that he might hear:-- | 6 | ······ |
| Perchance that dark hour brought repose | 9 | ˘/··/˘·˘/ |
| To happy bosoms near; | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| While she sat striving with despair | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Beside his tortured form, | 6 | ˘/·/˘· |
| And pouring her deep soul in prayer | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Forth on the rushing storm. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| She wiped the death-damps from his brow | 8 | ········ |
| With her pale hands and soft, | 6 | ······ |
| Whose touch upon the lute-chords low | 8 | ········ |
| Had still’d his heart so oft. | 6 | ······ |
| She spread her mantle o’er his breast, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| She bathed his lips with dew, | 6 | ······ |
| And on his cheek such kisses press’d | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| As hope and joy ne’er knew. | 6 | ······ |
| Oh! lovely are ye, Love and Faith, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Enduring to the last! | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| She had her meed--one smile in death-- | 8 | ········ |
| And his worn spirit pass’d! | 6 | ···/˘· |
| While even as o’er a martyr’s grave | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| She knelt on that sad spot, | 6 | ······ |
| And, weeping, bless’d the God who gave | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Strength to forsake it not. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
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