Woman and Fame
Thou hast a charmèd cup, O Fame!A draught that mantles high,And seems to lift this earthly frameAbove mortality.Away! to me--a woman--bringSweet waters from affection’s spring!
Thou hast green laurel leaves, that twineInto so proud a wreath,For that resplendent gift of thineHeroes have smiled in death:Give me from some kind hand a flower,The record of one happy hour!
Thou hast a voice, whose thrilling toneCan bid each life-pulse beat,As when a trumpet’s note hath blown,Calling the brave to meet:But mine, let mine--a woman’s breast,By words of home-born love be bless’d.
A hollow sound is in thy song,A mockery in thine eye,To the sick heart that doth but longFor aid, for sympathy--For kindly looks to cheer it on,For tender accents that are gone.
Fame! Fame! thou canst not be the stayUnto the drooping reed,The cool, fresh fountain in the dayOf the soul’s feverish need:Where must the lone one turn or flee!--Not unto thee--oh! not to thee!
Words in this poem
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- mortality n.
- The condition or quality of being mortal; subjection to death or to the necessity of dying. [L. mortalitas: cf. F. mortalité.]
- thrilling a.
- Causing a thrill; causing tremulous excitement; deeply moving; as, a thrilling romance.
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Woman and Fame 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, Woman and Fame, in Poems (1808–1835), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66785, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hemans-poems/woman-and-fame.html, id L19561.
Form and metre
Woman and Fame is 30 lines in 5 stanzas of 6 lines each. The commonest rhyme scheme is ABABCC, in 2 of the 5 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. 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 A-A-BB fameA · high · frameA · mortality · bringB · springB
- 2 A-A-BB twineA · wreath · thineA · death · flowerB · hourB
- 3 ABABCC toneA · beatB · blownA · meetB · breastC · bless'dC
- 4 A-A-BB songA · eye · longA · sympathy · onB · goneB
- 5 ABABCC stayA · reedB · dayA · needB · fleeC · theeC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Thou hast a charmèd cup, O Fame! | 7 | ······· |
| A draught that mantles high, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And seems to lift this earthly frame | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Above mortality. | 6 | ··˘/˘˘ |
| Away! to me--a woman--bring | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| Sweet waters from affection’s spring! | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Thou hast green laurel leaves, that twine | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Into so proud a wreath, | 6 | ······ |
| For that resplendent gift of thine | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| Heroes have smiled in death: | 6 | /˘···· |
| Give me from some kind hand a flower, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| The record of one happy hour! | 9 | ·/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Thou hast a voice, whose thrilling tone | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Can bid each life-pulse beat, | 6 | ······ |
| As when a trumpet’s note hath blown, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Calling the brave to meet: | 6 | /˘···· |
| But mine, let mine--a woman’s breast, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| By words of home-born love be bless’d. | 8 | ········ |
| A hollow sound is in thy song, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| A mockery in thine eye, | 7 | ·/˘˘··· |
| To the sick heart that doth but long | 8 | ········ |
| For aid, for sympathy-- | 6 | ···/˘˘ |
| For kindly looks to cheer it on, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| For tender accents that are gone. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Fame! Fame! thou canst not be the stay | 8 | ········ |
| Unto the drooping reed, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| The cool, fresh fountain in the day | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Of the soul’s feverish need: | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| Where must the lone one turn or flee!-- | 8 | ········ |
| Not unto thee--oh! not to thee! | 8 | ········ |
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