The Boy on the Barricade
Like Casabianca on the devastated deck,In years yet younger, but the selfsame core.Beside the battered barricado's restless wreck,A lad stood splashed with gouts of guilty gore,But gemmed with purest blood of patriot more.
Upon his fragile form the troopers' bloody gripWas deeply dug, while sharply challenged they:"Were you one of this currish crew?"--pride pursed his lip,As firm as bandog's, brought the bull to bay--While answered he: "I fought with others. Yea!"
"Prepare then to be shot! Go join that death-doomed row."As paced he pertly past, a volley rang--And as he fell in line, mock mercies once more flowOf man's lead-lightning's sudden scathing pang,But to his home-turned thoughts the balls but sang.
"Here's half-a-franc I saved to buy my mother's bread!"--The captain started--who mourns not a dear,The dearest! mother!--"Where is she, wolf-cub?" he saidStill gruffly. "There, d'ye see? not far from here.""Haste! make it hers! then back to swell their bier."
He sprang aloof as springald from detested school,Or ocean-rover from protected port."The little rascal has the laugh on us! no foolTo breast our bullets!"--but the scoff was short,For soon! the rogue is racing from his court;
And with still fearless front he faces them and calls:"READY! but level low--she's kissed these eyes!"From cooling hands of men each rifle falls,And their gray officer, in grave surprise,Life grants the lad whilst his last comrade dies.
Brave youth! I know not well what urged thy act,Whether thou'lt pass in palace, or die rackt;But then, shone on the guns, a sublime soul.--A Bayard-boy's, bound by his pure parole!Honor redeemed though paid by parlous price,Though lost be sunlit sports, wild boyhood's spice,The Gates, the cheers of mates for bright device!
Greeks would, whilom, have choicely clasped and circled thee,Set thee the first to shield some new Thermopylae;Thy deed had touched and tuned their true Tyrtaeus tongue,And staged by Aeschylus, grouped thee grand gods among.
And thy lost name (now known no more) been gilt and gravedOn cloud-kissed column, by the sweet south ocean laved.From us no crown! no honors from the civic sheaf--Purely this poet's tear-bejewelled, aye-green leaf!
Words in this poem 15
- selfsame a.
- Precisely the same; the very same; identical. [Self, a. + same.]
- currish a.
- Having the qualities, or exhibiting the characteristics, of a cur; snarling; quarrelsome; snappish; churlish; hence, also malicious; malignant; brutal. [From Cur.]
- pertly adv.
- In a pert manner.
- bier n.
- A handbarrow or portable frame on which a corpse is placed or borne to the grave. [OE. bæe, beere, AS. b, b; akin to D. baar, OHG. bara, G. bahre, Icel barar, Dbaare, L. feretrum, Gr. , from the same bear to produce. See 1st Bear, and cf. Barr]
- springald a.
- An active, springly young man. [Scot. springald, springel, fr. Scot. & E. spring.]
- rover n.
- One who practices robbery on the seas; a pirate. [D. roover a robber. See Rove, v. i.]
- cooling a.
- Adapted to cool and refresh; allaying heat.
- bayard n.
- Etym: [OF. bayard, baiart, bay horse; bai bay + -ard. See Bay, a., and -ard.]
- parole n.
- A word; an oral utterance. [F. parole. See Parley, and cf. Parol.]
- parlous a.
- Attended with peril; dangerous; as, a parlous cough. [For perlous, a contr. fr. perilous.]
- sunlit a.
- Lighted by the sun.
- whilom adv.
- Formerly; once; of old; erewhile; at times. [AS. hwilum, properly, at times, dative pl. of hwil; akin to G. weiland formerly, OHG. hwilm, See While, n.]
- choicely adv.
- With care in choosing; with nice regard to preference.
- circled a.
- Having the form of a circle; round.
- civic a.
- Relating to, or derived from, a city or citizen; relating to man as a member of society, or to civil affairs. Civic crown (Rom. [L.civicus, fr. civis citizen. See City.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Boy on the Barricade 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, The Boy on the Barricade, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8775, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hugo-poems/the-boy-on-the-barricade.html, id L26841.
Form and metre
The Boy on the Barricade is 45 lines in 9 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABABB, complete in 6 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 ABABB deckA · coreB · wreckA · goreB · moreB
- 2 ABABB gripA · theyB · lipA · bayB · yeaB
- 3 ABABB rowA · rangB · flowA · pangB · sangB
- 4 ABABB breadA · dearB · saidA · hereB · bierB
- 5 ABABB schoolA · portB · foolA · shortB · courtB
- 6 ABABB callsA · eyesB · fallsA · surpriseB · diesB
- 7 AABBCCC actA · racktA · soulB · paroleB · priceC · spiceC · deviceC
- 8 AABB theeA · thermopylaeA · tongueB · amongB
- 9 AABB gravedA · lavedA · sheafB · leafB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Like Casabianca on the devastated deck, | 12 | ·······/˘·˘· |
| In years yet younger, but the selfsame core. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Beside the battered barricado's restless wreck, | 12 | ˘/·/˘····/˘· |
| A lad stood splashed with gouts of guilty gore, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| But gemmed with purest blood of patriot more. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Upon his fragile form the troopers' bloody grip | 12 | ···/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Was deeply dug, while sharply challenged they: | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| "Were you one of this currish crew?"--pride pursed his lip, | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| As firm as bandog's, brought the bull to bay-- | 10 | ·········· |
| While answered he: "I fought with others. Yea!" | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| "Prepare then to be shot! Go join that death-doomed row." | 12 | ˘/·········· |
| As paced he pertly past, a volley rang-- | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And as he fell in line, mock mercies once more flow | 12 | ·······/˘··· |
| Of man's lead-lightning's sudden scathing pang, | 10 | ···/˘/˘/˘· |
| But to his home-turned thoughts the balls but sang. | 10 | ·········· |
| "Here's half-a-franc I saved to buy my mother's bread!"-- | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| The captain started--who mourns not a dear, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| The dearest! mother!--"Where is she, wolf-cub?" he said | 12 | ·/˘/˘······· |
| Still gruffly. "There, d'ye see? not far from here." | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| "Haste! make it hers! then back to swell their bier." | 10 | ·········· |
| He sprang aloof as springald from detested school, | 12 | ··˘/····˘/˘· |
| Or ocean-rover from protected port. | 10 | ·/˘/˘·˘/˘· |
| "The little rascal has the laugh on us! no fool | 12 | ·/˘/˘······· |
| To breast our bullets!"--but the scoff was short, | 10 | ··//˘····· |
| For soon! the rogue is racing from his court; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And with still fearless front he faces them and calls: | 12 | ···/˘··/˘··· |
| "READY! but level low--she's kissed these eyes!" | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| From cooling hands of men each rifle falls, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| And their gray officer, in grave surprise, | 10 | ···/˘˘··˘/ |
| Life grants the lad whilst his last comrade dies. | 10 | ·······/·· |
| Brave youth! I know not well what urged thy act, | 10 | ·········· |
| Whether thou'lt pass in palace, or die rackt; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| But then, shone on the guns, a sublime soul.-- | 10 | ·······˘/· |
| A Bayard-boy's, bound by his pure parole! | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| Honor redeemed though paid by parlous price, | 10 | /˘˘/···/˘· |
| Though lost be sunlit sports, wild boyhood's spice, | 10 | ···/···/·· |
| The Gates, the cheers of mates for bright device! | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Greeks would, whilom, have choicely clasped and circled thee, | 12 | ··/˘·/˘··/˘· |
| Set thee the first to shield some new Thermopylae; | 11 | ··········· |
| Thy deed had touched and tuned their true Tyrtaeus tongue, | 11 | ··········· |
| And staged by Aeschylus, grouped thee grand gods among. | 12 | ············ |
| And thy lost name (now known no more) been gilt and graved | 12 | ············ |
| On cloud-kissed column, by the sweet south ocean laved. | 11 | ···/˘····/· |
| From us no crown! no honors from the civic sheaf-- | 12 | ·····/˘··/˘· |
| Purely this poet's tear-bejewelled, aye-green leaf! | 12 | /˘·/˘······· |
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