Infantile Influence
The child comes toddling in, and young and oldWith smiling eyes its smiling eyes behold,And artless, babyish joy;A playful welcome greets it through the room,The saddest brow unfolds its wrinkled gloom,To greet the happy boy.
If June with flowers has spangled all the ground,Or winter bleak the flickering hearth aroundDraws close the circling seat;The child still sheds a never-failing light;We call; Mamma with mingled joy and frightWatches its tottering feet.
Perhaps at eve as round the fire we draw,We speak of heaven, or poetry, or law,Or politics, or prayer;The child comes in, 'tis now all smiles and play,Farewell to grave discourse and poet's lay,Philosophy and care.
When fancy wakes, but sense in heaviest sleepLies steeped, and like the sobs of them that weepThe dark stream sinks and swells,The dawn, like Pharos gleaming o'er the sea,Bursts forth, and sudden wakes the minstrelsyOf birds and chiming bells;
Thou art my dawn; my soul is as the field,Where sweetest flowers their balmy perfumes yieldWhen breathed upon by thee,Of forest, where thy voice like zephyr plays,And morn pours out its flood of golden rays,When thy sweet smile I see.
Oh, sweetest eyes, like founts of liquid blue;And little hands that evil never knew,Pure as the new-formed snow;Thy feet are still unstained by this world's mire,Thy golden locks like aureole of fireCircle thy cherub brow!
Dove of our ark, thine angel spirit fliesOn azure wings forth from thy beaming eyes.Though weak thine infant feet,What strange amaze this new and strange world givesTo thy sweet virgin soul, that spotless livesIn virgin body sweet.
Oh, gentle face, radiant with happy smile,And eager prattling tongue that knows no guile,Quick changing tears and bliss;Thy soul expands to catch this new world's light,Thy mazed eyes to drink each wondrous sight,Thy lips to taste the kiss.
Oh, God! bless me and mine, and these I love,And e'en my foes that still triumphant proveVictors by force or guile;A flowerless summer may we never see,Or nest of bird bereft, or hive of bee,Or home of infant's smile.
Words in this poem
- babyish a.
- Like a baby; childish; puerile; simple.
- pharos n.
- A lighthouse or beacon for the guidance of seamen.
- minstrelsy n.
- The arts and occupation of minstrels; the singing and playing of a minstrel.
- balmy a.
- Having the qualities of balm; odoriferous; aromatic; assuaging; soothing; refreshing; mild.
- zephyr n.
- The west wind; poetically, any soft, gentle breeze. [L. zephyrus, Gr. zéphyr.]
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- aureole n.
- A celestial crown or accidental glory added to the bliss of heaven, as a reward to those (as virgins, martyrs, preachers, etc.) who have overcome the world, the flesh, and the devil. [F. auréole, fr. L. aureola, (fem adj.) of gold (sc. corona crown), dim. of aureus. See Aureate, Oriole.]
- cherub n.
- A mysterious composite being, the winged footstool and chariot of the Almighty, described in Ezekiel i. and x. [Heb. kerub.]
- amaze v. t.
- To bewilder; to stupefy; to bring into a maze. [Pref. a- + maze.]
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Infantile Influence 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, Infantile Influence, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8775, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hugo-poems/infantile-influence.html, id L26740.
Form and metre
Infantile Influence is 54 lines in 9 stanzas of 6 lines each. The rhyme scheme is AABCCB, complete in 8 of its 9 stanzas. 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 AABCCB oldA · beholdA · joyB · roomC · gloomC · boyB
- 2 AABCCB groundA · aroundA · seatB · lightC · frightC · feetB
- 3 AABCCB drawA · lawA · prayerB · playC · layC · careB
- 4 AABCCB sleepA · weepA · swellsB · seaC · minstrelsyC · bellsB
- 5 AABCCB fieldA · yieldA · theeB · playsC · raysC · seeB
- 6 AA-BB- blueA · knewA · snow · mireB · fireB · brow
- 7 AABCCB fliesA · eyesA · feetB · givesC · livesC · sweetB
- 8 AABCCB smileA · guileA · blissB · lightC · sightC · kissB
- 9 AABCCB loveA · proveA · guileB · seeC · beeC · smileB
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 child comes toddling in, and young and old | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| With smiling eyes its smiling eyes behold, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| And artless, babyish joy; | 7 | ·/˘/˘˘· |
| A playful welcome greets it through the room, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| The saddest brow unfolds its wrinkled gloom, | 10 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| To greet the happy boy. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| If June with flowers has spangled all the ground, | 10 | ···/·/˘··· |
| Or winter bleak the flickering hearth around | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Draws close the circling seat; | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| The child still sheds a never-failing light; | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| We call; Mamma with mingled joy and fright | 10 | ··/˘·/˘··· |
| Watches its tottering feet. | 7 | /˘·/˘˘· |
| Perhaps at eve as round the fire we draw, | 10 | ˘/·····/·· |
| We speak of heaven, or poetry, or law, | 10 | ···/·/˘˘·· |
| Or politics, or prayer; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The child comes in, 'tis now all smiles and play, | 10 | ·········· |
| Farewell to grave discourse and poet's lay, | 10 | ·/··/˘·/˘· |
| Philosophy and care. | 6 | ˘/˘˘·· |
| When fancy wakes, but sense in heaviest sleep | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Lies steeped, and like the sobs of them that weep | 10 | ·········· |
| The dark stream sinks and swells, | 6 | ······ |
| The dawn, like Pharos gleaming o'er the sea, | 10 | ···/·/˘··· |
| Bursts forth, and sudden wakes the minstrelsy | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| Of birds and chiming bells; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Thou art my dawn; my soul is as the field, | 10 | ·········· |
| Where sweetest flowers their balmy perfumes yield | 10 | ·/˘/·/˘˘/· |
| When breathed upon by thee, | 6 | ······ |
| Of forest, where thy voice like zephyr plays, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| And morn pours out its flood of golden rays, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| When thy sweet smile I see. | 6 | ······ |
| Oh, sweetest eyes, like founts of liquid blue; | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| And little hands that evil never knew, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Pure as the new-formed snow; | 6 | ······ |
| Thy feet are still unstained by this world's mire, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Thy golden locks like aureole of fire | 11 | ·/˘··/˘˘·/˘ |
| Circle thy cherub brow! | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| Dove of our ark, thine angel spirit flies | 10 | ··/··/˘/˘· |
| On azure wings forth from thy beaming eyes. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Though weak thine infant feet, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| What strange amaze this new and strange world gives | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| To thy sweet virgin soul, that spotless lives | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| In virgin body sweet. | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Oh, gentle face, radiant with happy smile, | 10 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘· |
| And eager prattling tongue that knows no guile, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Quick changing tears and bliss; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Thy soul expands to catch this new world's light, | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| Thy mazed eyes to drink each wondrous sight, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Thy lips to taste the kiss. | 6 | ······ |
| Oh, God! bless me and mine, and these I love, | 10 | ·········· |
| And e'en my foes that still triumphant prove | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Victors by force or guile; | 6 | /˘···· |
| A flowerless summer may we never see, | 10 | ·/˘˘/˘··/· |
| Or nest of bird bereft, or hive of bee, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Or home of infant's smile. | 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.