The Spirit’s Mysteries
“And slight, withal, may be the things which bringBack on the heart the weight which it would flingAside for ever;--it may be a sound--A tone of music--summer’s breath, or spring--A flower--a leaf--the ocean--which may wound--Striking th’ electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound.”Childe Harold.
The power that dwelleth in sweet sounds to wakenVague yearnings, like the sailor’s for the shore,And dim remembrances, whose hue seems takenFrom some bright former state, our own no more;Is not this all a mystery? Who shall sayWhence are those thoughts, and whither tends their way?
The sudden images of vanish’d things,That o’er the spirit flash, we know not why;Tones from some broken harp’s deserted strings,Warm sunset hues of summers long gone by;A rippling wave--the dashing of an oar--A flower-scent floating past our parents’ door;
A word--scarce noted in its hour perchance,Yet back returning with a plaintive tone;A smile--a sunny or a mournful glance,Full of sweet meanings now from this world flown;Are not these mysteries when to life they start,And press vain tears in gushes from the heart?
And the far wanderings of the soul in dreams,Calling up shrouded faces from the dead,And with them bringing soft or solemn gleams,Familiar objects brightly to o’erspread;And wakening buried love, or joy, or fear--These are night’s mysteries--who shall make them clear?
And the strange inborn sense of coming ill,That ofttimes whispers to the haunted breast,In a low tone which naught can drown or still,Midst feasts and melodies a secret guest;Whence doth that murmur wake, that shadow fall?Why shakes the spirit thus? ’Tis mystery all!
Darkly we move--we press upon the brinkHaply of viewless worlds, and know it not;Yes! it may be, that nearer than we thinkAre those whom death has parted from our lot!Fearfully, wondrously, our souls are made--Let us walk humbly on, but undismay’d!
Humbly--for knowledge strives in vain to feelHer way amidst these marvels of the mind;Yet undismay’d--for do they not revealTh’ immortal being with our dust entwin’d?--So let us deem! and e’en the tears they wakeShall then be blest, for that high nature’s sake.
Words in this poem 20
- withal adv.
- With this; with that. [With + all.]
- wherewith adv.
- With which; -- used relatively.
- childe n.
- A cognomen formerly prefixed to his name by the oldest son, until he succeeded to his ancestral titles, or was knighted; as, Childe Roland.
- waken v. i.
- To wake; to cease to sleep; to be awakened. [OE. waknen, AS. wæcnan; akin to Goth. gawaknan. See Wake, v. i.]
- yearnings n.
- The maws, or stomachs, of young calves, used a rennet for curdling milk. [Cf. AS. geirnan, geyrnan, to rum. See 4th Earn.]
- 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,]
- whither adv.
- To what place; -- used interrogatively; as, whither goest thou [OE. whider. AS. hwider; akin to E. where, who; cf. Goth. hvadre whither. See Who, and cf. Hither, Thither.]
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- sunny a.
- Of or pertaining to the sun; proceeding from, or resembling the sun; hence, shining; bright; brilliant; radiant.
- flown a.
- Flushed, inflated.
- wakening n.
- The act of one who wakens; esp., the act of ceasing to sleep; an awakening.
- ofttimes adv.
- Frequently; often. [Oft + time. Cf. -wards.]
- haunted a.
- Inhabited by, or subject to the visits of, apparitions; frequented by a ghost.
- brink n.
- The edge, margin, or border of a steep place, as of a precipice; a bank or edge, as of a river or pit; a verge; a border; as, the brink of a chasm. Also Fig. [Dan. brink edge, verge; akin to Sw. brink declivity, hill, Icel. brekka; cf. LG. brink a grassy hill, W. bryn hill, bryncyn hillock.]
- haply adv.
- By hap, chance, luck, or accident; perhaps; it may be.
- viewless a.
- Not perceivable by the eye; invisible; unseen.
- fearfully adv.
- In a fearful manner.
- humbly adv.
- With humility; lowly.
- amidst prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- deem v. t.
- To decide; to judge; to sentence; to condemn. [OE. demen to judge, condemn, AS. d, fr. d doom; akin to OFries. d, OS. ad, D. doemen, OHG. tuommen, Icel. dæma, Sw. dömma, Dan. dömme, Goth. d. See Doom, n., an]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Spirit’s Mysteries 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, The Spirit’s Mysteries, in Poems (1808–1835), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66785, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hemans-poems/the-spirit-s-mysteries.html, id L19449.
Form and metre
The Spirit’s Mysteries is 49 lines in 8 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABABCC, complete in 7 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%).
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 AABABB- bringA · flingA · soundB · springA · woundB · boundB · harold
- 2 ABABCC wakenA · shoreB · takenA · moreB · sayC · wayC
- 3 ABABCC thingsA · whyB · stringsA · byB · oarC · doorC
- 4 ABABCC perchanceA · toneB · glanceA · flownB · startC · heartC
- 5 ABABCC dreamsA · deadB · gleamsA · o'erspreadB · fearC · clearC
- 6 ABABCC illA · breastB · stillA · guestB · fallC · allC
- 7 ABABCC brinkA · notB · thinkA · lotB · madeC · undismay'dC
- 8 ABABCC feelA · mindB · revealA · entwin'dB · wakeC · sakeC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| “And slight, withal, may be the things which bring | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| Back on the heart the weight which it would fling | 10 | ·········· |
| Aside for ever;--it may be a sound-- | 10 | ˘/·/˘····· |
| A tone of music--summer’s breath, or spring-- | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| A flower--a leaf--the ocean--which may wound-- | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| Striking th’ electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound.” | 13 | /˘˘/˘·˘/··/˘· |
| Childe Harold. | 3 | ·/˘ |
| The power that dwelleth in sweet sounds to waken | 11 | ·/·/˘····/˘ |
| Vague yearnings, like the sailor’s for the shore, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| And dim remembrances, whose hue seems taken | 11 | ··˘/˘˘···/˘ |
| From some bright former state, our own no more; | 10 | ···/˘·/··· |
| Is not this all a mystery? Who shall say | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Whence are those thoughts, and whither tends their way? | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The sudden images of vanish’d things, | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘·/˘· |
| That o’er the spirit flash, we know not why; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Tones from some broken harp’s deserted strings, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Warm sunset hues of summers long gone by; | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| A rippling wave--the dashing of an oar-- | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| A flower-scent floating past our parents’ door; | 10 | ·/·/˘·//˘· |
| A word--scarce noted in its hour perchance, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘/ |
| Yet back returning with a plaintive tone; | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| A smile--a sunny or a mournful glance, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Full of sweet meanings now from this world flown; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Are not these mysteries when to life they start, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And press vain tears in gushes from the heart? | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And the far wanderings of the soul in dreams, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Calling up shrouded faces from the dead, | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| And with them bringing soft or solemn gleams, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Familiar objects brightly to o’erspread; | 10 | ˘/˘/˘/˘··· |
| And wakening buried love, or joy, or fear-- | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| These are night’s mysteries--who shall make them clear? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And the strange inborn sense of coming ill, | 10 | ···/···/˘· |
| That ofttimes whispers to the haunted breast, | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| In a low tone which naught can drown or still, | 10 | ·········· |
| Midst feasts and melodies a secret guest; | 10 | ···/˘˘·/˘· |
| Whence doth that murmur wake, that shadow fall? | 10 | ···/˘··/·· |
| Why shakes the spirit thus? ’Tis mystery all! | 10 | ···/··/˘˘· |
| Darkly we move--we press upon the brink | 10 | /˘········ |
| Haply of viewless worlds, and know it not; | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Yes! it may be, that nearer than we think | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Are those whom death has parted from our lot! | 10 | ·····/˘·/· |
| Fearfully, wondrously, our souls are made-- | 10 | /˘˘···/··· |
| Let us walk humbly on, but undismay’d! | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Humbly--for knowledge strives in vain to feel | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Her way amidst these marvels of the mind; | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Yet undismay’d--for do they not reveal | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Th’ immortal being with our dust entwin’d?-- | 10 | ˘/˘/·/˘·˘/ |
| So let us deem! and e’en the tears they wake | 10 | ·········· |
| Shall then be blest, for that high nature’s sake. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
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