Cromwell and the Crown
CROMWELL. And is it mine? And have my feet at lengthAttained the summit of the rock i' the sand?
THURLOW. And yet, my lord, you have long reigned.
CROM. Nay, nay!Power I have 'joyed, in sooth, but not the name.Thou smilest, Thurlow. Ah, thou little know'stWhat hole it is Ambition digs i' th' heartWhat end, most seeming empty, is the markFor which we fret and toil and dare! How hardWith an unrounded fortune to sit down!Then, what a lustre from most ancient timesHeaven has flung o'er the sacred head of kings!King--Majesty--what names of power! No king,And yet the world's high arbiter! The thingWithout the word! no handle to the blade!Away--the empire and the name are one!Alack! thou little dream'st how grievous 'tis,Emerging from the crowd, and at the topArrived, to feel that there is something stillAbove our heads; something, nothing! no matter--That word is everything.
Words in this poem
- sooth a.
- True; faithful; trustworthy. [OE. soth, AS. s, for san; akin to OS. s, OHG. sand, Icel. sannr, Sw. sann, Dan. sand, Skr. sat, sant, real, genuine, present, being; properly p. pr. from a root]
- lustre n.
- A period of five years; a lustrum. [L. lustrum: cf. F. lustre.]
- alack interj.
- An exclamation expressive of sorrow. [Prob. from ah! lack! OE. lak loss, failure, misfortune. See Lack.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Cromwell and the Crown is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #8775, the various hands translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Victor Hugo, Cromwell and the Crown, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8775, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hugo-poems/cromwell-and-the-crown.html, id L26879.
Form and metre
Cromwell and the Crown is 21 lines in 3 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.
- 3 ---------AA------A nay · name · know'st · heart · mark · hard · down · times · kings · kingA · thingA · blade · one · tis · top · still · matter · everythingA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| CROMWELL. And is it mine? And have my feet at length | 12 | /˘·········· |
| Attained the summit of the rock i' the sand? | 11 | ˘/·/˘······ |
| THURLOW. And yet, my lord, you have long reigned. | 10 | /˘········ |
| CROM. Nay, nay! | 3 | ··· |
| Power I have 'joyed, in sooth, but not the name. | 10 | /········· |
| Thou smilest, Thurlow. Ah, thou little know'st | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| What hole it is Ambition digs i' th' heart | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| What end, most seeming empty, is the mark | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| For which we fret and toil and dare! How hard | 10 | ·········· |
| With an unrounded fortune to sit down! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Then, what a lustre from most ancient times | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Heaven has flung o'er the sacred head of kings! | 10 | /····/˘··· |
| King--Majesty--what names of power! No king, | 10 | ·/˘˘···/·· |
| And yet the world's high arbiter! The thing | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Without the word! no handle to the blade! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Away--the empire and the name are one! | 10 | ˘/·/˘····· |
| Alack! thou little dream'st how grievous 'tis, | 10 | ˘/·/˘··/˘· |
| Emerging from the crowd, and at the top | 10 | ˘/˘······· |
| Arrived, to feel that there is something still | 10 | ˘/·····/˘· |
| Above our heads; something, nothing! no matter-- | 11 | ··/·/˘/˘·/˘ |
| That word is everything. | 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.