To My Wife
The curse of Adam, the old curse of all,Though I inherit in this feverish lifeOf worldly toil, vain wishes, and hard strife,And fruitless thought, in Care's eternal thrall,Yet more sweet honey than of bitter gallI taste, through thee, my Eve, my sweet wife.Then what was Man's lost Paradise!--how rifeOf bliss, since love is with him in his fall!Such as our own pure passion still might frame,Of this fair earth, and its delightful bow'rs,If no fell sorrow, like the serpent, cameTo trail its venom o'er the sweetest flow'rs;--But oh! as many and such tears are ours,As only should be shed for guilt and shame!
Words in this poem
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- fruitless a.
- Lacking, or not bearing, fruit; barren; destitute of offspring; as, a fruitless tree or shrub; a fruitless marriage.
- rife a.
- Prevailing; prevalent; abounding. [AS. rif abundant, or Icel. rifr munificent; akin to OD. riff, rijve, abundant.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
To My Wife 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, To My Wife, 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/to-my-wife.html, id L20085.
Form and metre
To My Wife is 14 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
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 ABBAABBACDCD-C allA · lifeB · strifeB · thrallA · gallA · wifeB · rifeB · fallA · frameC · bow'rsD · cameC · flow'rsD · ours · shameC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| The curse of Adam, the old curse of all, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Though I inherit in this feverish life | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and hard strife, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| And fruitless thought, in Care's eternal thrall, | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘· |
| Yet more sweet honey than of bitter gall | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| I taste, through thee, my Eve, my sweet wife. | 9 | ········· |
| Then what was Man's lost Paradise!--how rife | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Of bliss, since love is with him in his fall! | 10 | ·········· |
| Such as our own pure passion still might frame, | 10 | ··/··/˘··· |
| Of this fair earth, and its delightful bow'rs, | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| If no fell sorrow, like the serpent, came | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| To trail its venom o'er the sweetest flow'rs;-- | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| But oh! as many and such tears are ours, | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| As only should be shed for guilt and shame! | 10 | ·/˘······· |
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.