First Love
MARION (smiling.) You're strange, and yet I love you thus.
DIDIER. You love me?Beware, nor with light lips utter that word.You love me!--know you what it is to loveWith love that is the life-blood in one's veins,The vital air we breathe, a love long-smothered,Smouldering in silence, kindling, burning, blazing,And purifying in its growth the soul.A love that from the heart eats every passionBut its sole self; love without hope or limit,Deep love that will outlast all happiness;Speak, speak; is such the love you bear me?
MARION. Truly.
DIDIER. Ha! but you do not know how I love you!The day that first I saw you, the dark worldGrew shining, for your eyes lighted my gloom.Since then, all things have changed; to me you areSome brightest, unknown creature from the skies.This irksome life, 'gainst which my heart rebelled,Seems almost fair and pleasant; for, alas!Till I knew you wandering, alone, oppressed,I wept and struggled, I had never loved.
Words in this poem
- beware v. t.
- To avoid; to take care of; to have a care for.
- smouldering a.
- Being in a state of suppressed activity; quiet but not dead.
- outlast v. t.
- To exceed in duration; to survive; to endure longer than.
- irksome a.
- Wearisome; tedious; disagreeable or troublesome by reason of long continuance or repetition; as, irksome hours; irksome tasks.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
First Love 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, First Love, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8775, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hugo-poems/first-love.html, id L26881.
Form and metre
First Love is 22 lines in 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 79%).
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.
- 2 AB--B-----A meA · wordB · love · veins · smotheredB · blazing · soul · passion · limit · happiness · meA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| MARION (smiling.) You're strange, and yet I love you thus. | 12 | /˘/˘········ |
| DIDIER. You love me? | 6 | /˘˘··· |
| Beware, nor with light lips utter that word. | 10 | ˘/····/˘·· |
| You love me!--know you what it is to love | 10 | ·········· |
| With love that is the life-blood in one's veins, | 10 | ·········· |
| The vital air we breathe, a love long-smothered, | 11 | ·/˘······/˘ |
| Smouldering in silence, kindling, burning, blazing, | 12 | ····/˘/˘/˘/˘ |
| And purifying in its growth the soul. | 10 | ·/˘·˘····· |
| A love that from the heart eats every passion | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| But its sole self; love without hope or limit, | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Deep love that will outlast all happiness; | 10 | ····˘/·/˘˘ |
| Speak, speak; is such the love you bear me? | 9 | ········· |
| MARION. Truly. | 5 | /˘˘/˘ |
| DIDIER. Ha! but you do not know how I love you! | 12 | /˘·········· |
| The day that first I saw you, the dark world | 10 | ·········· |
| Grew shining, for your eyes lighted my gloom. | 10 | ·/˘···/˘·· |
| Since then, all things have changed; to me you are | 10 | ·········· |
| Some brightest, unknown creature from the skies. | 10 | ·/˘˘//˘··· |
| This irksome life, 'gainst which my heart rebelled, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| Seems almost fair and pleasant; for, alas! | 10 | ·/···/˘·˘/ |
| Till I knew you wandering, alone, oppressed, | 10 | ····/˘˘/˘/ |
| I wept and struggled, I had never loved. | 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.