Poem II
The sun was slumbering in the West.My daily labors past;On Anna's soft and gentle breastMy head reclined at last;--The darkness clos'd around, so dearTo fond congenial souls,And thus she murmur'd at my ear,"My love, we're out of coals!"
"That Mister Bond has call'd again,Insisting on his rent;And all the Todds are coming upTo see us, out of Kent;--I quite forgot to tell you JohnHas had a tipsy fall;--I'm sure there's something going onWith that vile Mary Hall!--"
"Miss Bell has bought the sweetest silk,And I have bought the rest--Of course, if we go out of town,Southend will be the best.--I really think the Jones's houseWould be the thing for us;--I think I told you Mrs. PopeHad parted with her nus--
"Cook, by the way, came up to-day,To bid me suit myself--And what d'ye think? the rats have gnawedThe victuals on the shelf.--And, lord! there's such a letter come,Inviting you to fight!Of course you don't intend to go--God bless you, dear, good night!"
Words in this poem
- reclined a.
- Falling or turned downward; reclinate.
- mister n.
- A trade, art, or occupation. [OF. mistier trade, office, ministry, need, F. métier trade, fr. L. ministerium service, office, ministry. See Ministry, Mystery trade.]
- inviting a.
- Alluring; tempting; as, an inviting amusement or prospect.
- intend v. t.
- To stretch' to extend; to distend. [OE. entenden to be attentive, F. entendre, fr. L. intendre, intentum, and intensum, to intend, attend, stretch out, extend; pref. in- in + tendere to stretch, s]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Poem II is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood, Project Gutenberg ebook #15652; 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, Poem II, in The Song of the Shirt, and Other Poems (1826–1845), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #15652, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hood-poetical-works/poem-ii.html, id L20179.
Form and metre
Poem II is 32 lines in 4 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
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 ABABCDCD westA · pastB · breastA · lastB · dearC · soulsD · earC · coalsD
- 2 -A-ABCBC again · rentA · up · kentA · johnB · fallC · onB · hallC
- 3 -A-A---- silk · restA · town · bestA · house · us · pope · nus
- 4 -A-A-B-B day · myselfA · gnawed · shelfA · come · fightB · go · nightB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| The sun was slumbering in the West. | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| My daily labors past; | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| On Anna's soft and gentle breast | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| My head reclined at last;-- | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| The darkness clos'd around, so dear | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| To fond congenial souls, | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| And thus she murmur'd at my ear, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| "My love, we're out of coals!" | 6 | ······ |
| "That Mister Bond has call'd again, | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Insisting on his rent; | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| And all the Todds are coming up | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| To see us, out of Kent;-- | 6 | ······ |
| I quite forgot to tell you John | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| Has had a tipsy fall;-- | 6 | ···/˘· |
| I'm sure there's something going on | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| With that vile Mary Hall!--" | 6 | ···/˘· |
| "Miss Bell has bought the sweetest silk, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And I have bought the rest-- | 6 | ······ |
| Of course, if we go out of town, | 8 | ········ |
| Southend will be the best.-- | 6 | ······ |
| I really think the Jones's house | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Would be the thing for us;-- | 6 | ······ |
| I think I told you Mrs. Pope | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Had parted with her nus-- | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| "Cook, by the way, came up to-day, | 8 | ········ |
| To bid me suit myself-- | 6 | ·····/ |
| And what d'ye think? the rats have gnawed | 8 | ········ |
| The victuals on the shelf.-- | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And, lord! there's such a letter come, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Inviting you to fight! | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| Of course you don't intend to go-- | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| God bless you, dear, good night!" | 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.