Early Love Revisited
I have wished in the grief of my heart to knowIf the vase yet treasured that nectar so clear,And to see what this beautiful valley could showOf all that was once to my soul most dear.In how short a span doth all Nature change,How quickly she smoothes with her hand serene--And how rarely she snaps, in her ceaseless range,The links that bound our hearts to the scene.
Our beautiful bowers are all laid waste;The fir is felled that our names once bore;Our rows of roses, by urchins' haste,Are destroyed where they leap the barrier o'er.The fount is walled in where, at noonday pride,She so gayly drank, from the wood descending;In her fairy hand was transformed the tide,And it turned to pearls through her fingers wending
The wild, rugged path is paved with spars,Where erst in the sand her footsteps were traced,When so small were the prints that the surface mars,That they seemed to smile ere by mine effaced.The bank on the side of the road, day by day,Where of old she awaited my loved approach,Is now become the traveller's wayTo avoid the track of the thundering coach.
Here the forest contracts, there the mead extends,Of all that was ours, there is little left--Like the ashes that wildly are whisked by winds,Of all souvenirs is the place bereft.Do we live no more--is our hour then gone?Will it give back naught to our hungry cry?The breeze answers my call with a mocking tone,The house that was mine makes no reply.
True! others shall pass, as we have passed,As we have come, so others shall meet,And the dream that our mind had sketched in haste,Shall others continue, but never complete.For none upon earth can achieve his scheme,The best as the worst are futile here:We awake at the selfsame point cf the dream--All is here begun, and finished elsewhere.
Yes! others shall come in the bloom of the heart,To enjoy in this pure and happy retreat,All that nature to timid love can impartOf solemn repose and communion sweet.In our fields, in our paths, shall strangers stray,In thy wood, my dearest, new lovers go lost,And other fair forms in the stream shall playWhich of old thy delicate feet have crossed.
Words in this poem
- ceaseless a.
- Without pause or end; incessant.
- noonday n.
- Midday; twelve o'clock in the day; noon.
- gayly adv.
- With mirth and frolic; merrily; blithely; gleefully.
- drank n.
- Wild oats, or darnel grass. See Drake a plant. [Cf. 3d Drake.]
- avoid v. t.
- To empty. Wyclif. [OF. esvuidier, es (L. ex) + vuidier, voidier, to empty. See Void, a.]
- thundering a.
- Emitting thunder.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- futile a.
- Talkative; loquacious; tattling. [L. futilis that easily pours out, that easily lets loose, vain, worthless, from the root of fundere to pour out: cf. F. futile. See Fuse, v. t.]
- selfsame a.
- Precisely the same; the very same; identical. [Self, a. + same.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Early Love Revisited 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, Early Love Revisited, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8775, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hugo-poems/early-love-revisited.html, id L26787.
Form and metre
Early Love Revisited is 48 lines in 6 stanzas of 8 lines each. The commonest rhyme scheme is ABABCDCD, in 2 of the 6 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 74%).
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 ABABCDCD knowA · clearB · showA · dearB · changeC · sereneD · rangeC · sceneD
- 2 A-A-BCBC wasteA · bore · hasteA · o'er · prideB · descendingC · tideB · wendingC
- 3 A-A-BCBC sparsA · traced · marsA · effaced · dayB · approachC · wayB · coachC
- 4 -A-A-B-B extends · leftA · winds · bereftA · gone · cryB · tone · replyB
- 5 -A-ABCBC passed · meetA · haste · completeA · schemeB · hereC · dreamB · elsewhereC
- 6 ABABCDCD heartA · retreatB · impartA · sweetB · strayC · lostD · playC · crossedD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| I have wished in the grief of my heart to know | 11 | ··········· |
| If the vase yet treasured that nectar so clear, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘·· |
| And to see what this beautiful valley could show | 11 | ·····/˘/˘·· |
| Of all that was once to my soul most dear. | 10 | ·········· |
| In how short a span doth all Nature change, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| How quickly she smoothes with her hand serene-- | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| And how rarely she snaps, in her ceaseless range, | 11 | ··/˘····/˘· |
| The links that bound our hearts to the scene. | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Our beautiful bowers are all laid waste; | 10 | //˘˘/˘···· |
| The fir is felled that our names once bore; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Our rows of roses, by urchins' haste, | 10 | /˘··/˘·/˘· |
| Are destroyed where they leap the barrier o'er. | 10 | ·˘/····/˘· |
| The fount is walled in where, at noonday pride, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| She so gayly drank, from the wood descending; | 11 | ··/˘····˘/˘ |
| In her fairy hand was transformed the tide, | 10 | ··/˘··˘/·· |
| And it turned to pearls through her fingers wending | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| The wild, rugged path is paved with spars, | 10 | ··/˘˘····· |
| Where erst in the sand her footsteps were traced, | 10 | ······/··· |
| When so small were the prints that the surface mars, | 11 | ········/˘· |
| That they seemed to smile ere by mine effaced. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| The bank on the side of the road, day by day, | 11 | ··········· |
| Where of old she awaited my loved approach, | 11 | ····˘/˘··˘/ |
| Is now become the traveller's way | 9 | ··˘/·/˘˘· |
| To avoid the track of the thundering coach. | 10 | ·˘/····/˘· |
| Here the forest contracts, there the mead extends, | 11 | ··/˘/····˘/ |
| Of all that was ours, there is little left-- | 10 | ····/··/˘· |
| Like the ashes that wildly are whisked by winds, | 11 | ··/˘·/˘···· |
| Of all souvenirs is the place bereft. | 10 | ···˘/···˘/ |
| Do we live no more--is our hour then gone? | 10 | ······//·· |
| Will it give back naught to our hungry cry? | 10 | ······//˘· |
| The breeze answers my call with a mocking tone, | 11 | ··/˘····/˘· |
| The house that was mine makes no reply. | 9 | ·······˘/ |
| True! others shall pass, as we have passed, | 10 | ·/˘······˘ |
| As we have come, so others shall meet, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| And the dream that our mind had sketched in haste, | 10 | ····/····· |
| Shall others continue, but never complete. | 10 | ·/˘˘/˘·/˘/ |
| For none upon earth can achieve his scheme, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| The best as the worst are futile here: | 9 | ······/˘· |
| We awake at the selfsame point cf the dream-- | 11 | ·˘/··/˘···· |
| All is here begun, and finished elsewhere. | 10 | ···˘/·/˘/· |
| Yes! others shall come in the bloom of the heart, | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| To enjoy in this pure and happy retreat, | 11 | ·˘/····/˘˘/ |
| All that nature to timid love can impart | 11 | ··/˘·/˘··˘/ |
| Of solemn repose and communion sweet. | 10 | ·/˘˘/·˘/˘· |
| In our fields, in our paths, shall strangers stray, | 10 | ·/··/··/˘· |
| In thy wood, my dearest, new lovers go lost, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘·· |
| And other fair forms in the stream shall play | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Which of old thy delicate feet have crossed. | 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.