Reply to a Pastoral Poet
Tell us not of bygone days!Tell us not of forward times!What’s the future--what’s the past--Save to fashion rhymes?Show us that the corn doth thrive!Show us there’s no wintry weather!Show us we may laugh and live--(Those who love--together.)
Senses have we for sweet blossoms--Eyes, which could admire the sun--Passions blazing in our bosoms--Hearts, that may be won!But Labour doth for ever press us,And Famine grins upon our board;And none will help us, none will bless us,With one gentle word!
None, none! our birthright or our fate,Is hunger and inclement air--Perpetual toil--the rich man’s hate--Want, scorn--the pauper’s fare:We fain would gaze upon the sky,Lie pensive by the running springs;But if we stay to gaze or sigh,We starve--though the cuckoo sings!
The moon casts cold on us below;The sun is not our own;The very winds which fragrance blow,But blanch us to the bone;The rose for us ne’er shows its bloom,The violet its blue eye;From cradle murmuring to the tomb,We feel no beauty, no perfume,But only toil--and die!
Words in this poem
- bygone n.
- Something gone by or past; a past event.
- wintry a.
- Suitable to winter; resembling winter, or what belongs to winter; brumal; hyemal; cold; stormy; wintery. [AS. wintrig.]
- admire v. t.
- To regard with wonder or astonishment; to view with surprise; to marvel at. [F. admirer, fr. L. admirari; ad + mirari to wonder, for smirari, akin to Gr. smi, and E. smile.]
- famine n.
- General scarcity of food; dearth; a want of provisions; destitution. [F. famine, fr. L. fames hunger; cf. Gr. hani loss, lack, ha to leave.]
- inclement a.
- Not clement; destitute of a mild and kind temper; void of tenderness; unmerciful; severe; harsh. [L. inclemens; pref. in- not + clemens mild: cf. F. inclément. See Clement.]
- pauper n.
- A poor person; especially, one development on private or public charity. Also used adjectively; as, pouper immigrants, pouper labor. [L. See Poor.]
- fain v. t.
- To be glad ; to wish or desire.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Reply to a Pastoral Poet is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Comic Poems of Thomas Hood A New and Complete Edition, Project Gutenberg ebook #56712; 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 Hood, Reply to a Pastoral Poet, in Poems (1827–1845), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #56712, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hood-poems/reply-to-a-pastoral-poet.html, id L06703.
Form and metre
Reply to a Pastoral Poet is 33 lines in 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.3 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending.
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-ABCBC days · timesA · past · rhymesA · thriveB · weatherC · liveB · togetherC
- 2 -A-AB-B- blossoms · sunA · bosoms · wonA · usB · board · usB · word
- 3 ABABCDCD fateA · airB · hateA · fareB · skyC · springsD · sighC · singsD
- 4 ABABCDCCD belowA · ownB · blowA · boneB · bloomC · eyeD · tombC · perfumeC · dieD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Tell us not of bygone days! | 7 | ····/·· |
| Tell us not of forward times! | 7 | ····/˘· |
| What’s the future--what’s the past-- | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Save to fashion rhymes? | 5 | ··/˘· |
| Show us that the corn doth thrive! | 7 | ······· |
| Show us there’s no wintry weather! | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| Show us we may laugh and live-- | 7 | ······· |
| (Those who love--together.) | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| Senses have we for sweet blossoms-- | 8 | /˘····/˘ |
| Eyes, which could admire the sun-- | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| Passions blazing in our bosoms-- | 9 | /˘/˘·/˘/˘ |
| Hearts, that may be won! | 5 | ····· |
| But Labour doth for ever press us, | 8 | ·/···/·· |
| And Famine grins upon our board; | 8 | ·/˘···/· |
| And none will help us, none will bless us, | 9 | ········· |
| With one gentle word! | 5 | ··/˘· |
| None, none! our birthright or our fate, | 8 | ··//··/· |
| Is hunger and inclement air-- | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Perpetual toil--the rich man’s hate-- | 8 | ˘/˘····· |
| Want, scorn--the pauper’s fare: | 6 | ···/˘· |
| We fain would gaze upon the sky, | 8 | ········ |
| Lie pensive by the running springs; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| But if we stay to gaze or sigh, | 8 | ········ |
| We starve--though the cuckoo sings! | 7 | ····/·· |
| The moon casts cold on us below; | 8 | ········ |
| The sun is not our own; | 7 | ····/˘· |
| The very winds which fragrance blow, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| But blanch us to the bone; | 6 | ······ |
| The rose for us ne’er shows its bloom, | 8 | ········ |
| The violet its blue eye; | 7 | ·/˘˘··· |
| From cradle murmuring to the tomb, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| We feel no beauty, no perfume, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| But only toil--and die! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
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.