Lamentation
I read upon that book,Which down the golden gulf doth let us lookOn the sweet days of pastoral majesty;I read upon that bookHow, when the Shepherd Prince did flee(Red Esau's twin), he desolate tookThe stone for a pillow: then he fell on sleep.And lo! there was a ladder. Lo! there hungA ladder from the star-place, and it clungTo the earth: it tied her so to heaven; and O!There fluttered wings;Then were ascending and descending thingsThat stepped to him where he lay low;Then up the ladder would a-drifting go(This feathered brood of heaven), and showSmall as white flakes in winter that are blownTogether, underneath the great white throne.
When I had shut the book, I said,"Now, as for me, my dreams upon my bedAre not like Jacob's dream;Yet I have got it in my life; yes, I,And many more: it doth not us beseem,Therefore, to sigh.Is there not hung a ladder in our sky?Yea; and, moreover, all the way up on highIs thickly peopled with the prayers of men.We have no dream! What then?Like wingéd wayfarers the height they scale(By Him that offers them they shall prevail),--The prayers of men.But where is found a prayer for me;How should I pray?My heart is sick, and full of strife.I heard one whisper with departing breath,'Suffer us not, for any pains of death,To fall from Thee.'But O, the pains of life! the pains of life!There is no comfort now, and naught to win,But yet,--I will begin."
"Preserve to me my wealth," I do not say,For that is wasted away;And much of it was cankered ere it went."Preserve to me my health." I cannot say,For that, upon a day,Went after other delights to banishment.
What can I pray? "Give me forgetfulness"?No, I would still possessPast away smiles, though present fronts be stern."Give me again my kindred?" Nay; not so,Not idle prayers. We knowThey that have crossed the river cannot return.
I do not pray, "Comfort me! comfort me!"For how should comfort be?O,--O that cooing mouth,--that little white head!No; but I pray, "If it be not too late,Open to me the gate,That I may find my babe when I am dead.
"Show me the path. I had forgotten TheeWhen I was happy and free,Walking down here in the gladsome light o' the sun;But now I come and mourn; O set my feetIn the road to Thy blest seat,And for the rest, O God, Thy will be done."
Words in this poem
- clung a.
- Wasted away; shrunken. [Prop. p. p. fr. OE. clingen to wither. See Cling, v. i.]
- beseem v. i.
- To seem; to appear; to be fitting.
- peopled a.
- Stocked with, or as with, people; inhabited.
- 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,]
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- cankered a.
- Affected with canker; as, a cankered mouth.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- babe n.
- An infant; a young child of either sex; a baby. [Cf. Ir. bab, baban, W. baban, maban.]
- gladsome a.
- Pleased; joyful; cheerful.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Lamentation is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by Jean Ingelow, In Two Volumes, Volume I., Project Gutenberg ebook #13223; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Jean Ingelow, Lamentation, in Poems, Volume I (1863), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #13223, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/ingelow-poems/lamentation.html, id L12843.
Form and metre
Lamentation is 63 lines in 6 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is AABCCB, complete in 3 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.7 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 27% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 AA-A-A-BBCDDCCCEE bookA · lookA · majesty · bookA · flee · tookA · sleep · hungB · clungB · oC · wingsD · thingsD · lowC · goC · showC · blownE · throneE
- 2 AABCBCCCDDEEDF-GHHFGII saidA · bedA · dreamB · iC · beseemB · sighC · skyC · highC · menD · thenD · scaleE · prevailE · menD · meF · pray · strifeG · breathH · deathH · theeF · lifeG · winI · beginI
- 3 AABAAB sayA · awayA · wentB · sayA · dayA · banishmentB
- 4 AABCCB forgetfulnessA · possessA · sternB · soC · knowC · returnB
- 5 AABCCB meA · beA · headB · lateC · gateC · deadB
- 6 AABCCB theeA · freeA · sunB · feetC · seatC · doneB
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 read upon that book, | 6 | ······ |
| Which down the golden gulf doth let us look | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| On the sweet days of pastoral majesty; | 11 | ·····/˘˘/˘˘ |
| I read upon that book | 6 | ······ |
| How, when the Shepherd Prince did flee | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| (Red Esau's twin), he desolate took | 9 | ·/···/˘·· |
| The stone for a pillow: then he fell on sleep. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| And lo! there was a ladder. Lo! there hung | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| A ladder from the star-place, and it clung | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| To the earth: it tied her so to heaven; and O! | 11 | ········/·· |
| There fluttered wings; | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Then were ascending and descending things | 10 | ··˘/˘·˘/˘· |
| That stepped to him where he lay low; | 9 | ··˘······ |
| Then up the ladder would a-drifting go | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| (This feathered brood of heaven), and show | 10 | ·/˘˘··/˘·· |
| Small as white flakes in winter that are blown | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Together, underneath the great white throne. | 10 | ˘/˘·˘/···· |
| When I had shut the book, I said, | 8 | ········ |
| "Now, as for me, my dreams upon my bed | 10 | ·········· |
| Are not like Jacob's dream; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Yet I have got it in my life; yes, I, | 10 | ·········· |
| And many more: it doth not us beseem, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| Therefore, to sigh. | 4 | ···· |
| Is there not hung a ladder in our sky? | 10 | ·····/˘·/· |
| Yea; and, moreover, all the way up on high | 11 | ··˘/˘······ |
| Is thickly peopled with the prayers of men. | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| We have no dream! What then? | 6 | ······ |
| Like wingéd wayfarers the height they scale | 9 | ········· |
| (By Him that offers them they shall prevail),-- | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| The prayers of men. | 4 | ···· |
| But where is found a prayer for me; | 8 | ········ |
| How should I pray? | 4 | ···· |
| My heart is sick, and full of strife. | 8 | ········ |
| I heard one whisper with departing breath, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| 'Suffer us not, for any pains of death, | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| To fall from Thee.' | 4 | ···· |
| But O, the pains of life! the pains of life! | 10 | ·········· |
| There is no comfort now, and naught to win, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| But yet,--I will begin." | 6 | ····˘/ |
| "Preserve to me my wealth," I do not say, | 10 | ˘/········ |
| For that is wasted away; | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| And much of it was cankered ere it went. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| "Preserve to me my health." I cannot say, | 10 | ˘/·····/˘· |
| For that, upon a day, | 6 | ······ |
| Went after other delights to banishment. | 11 | ···/˘˘/·/˘˘ |
| What can I pray? "Give me forgetfulness"? | 10 | ······˘/˘˘ |
| No, I would still possess | 6 | ····˘/ |
| Past away smiles, though present fronts be stern. | 10 | ·˘/··˘/··· |
| "Give me again my kindred?" Nay; not so, | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Not idle prayers. We know | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| They that have crossed the river cannot return. | 11 | ·····/˘/˘˘/ |
| I do not pray, "Comfort me! comfort me!" | 10 | ····/˘·/˘· |
| For how should comfort be? | 6 | ···/˘· |
| O,--O that cooing mouth,--that little white head! | 11 | ···/˘··/˘·· |
| No; but I pray, "If it be not too late, | 10 | ·········· |
| Open to me the gate, | 6 | /˘···· |
| That I may find my babe when I am dead. | 10 | ·········· |
| "Show me the path. I had forgotten Thee | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| When I was happy and free, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Walking down here in the gladsome light o' the sun; | 12 | /˘····/˘···· |
| But now I come and mourn; O set my feet | 10 | ·········· |
| In the road to Thy blest seat, | 7 | ······· |
| And for the rest, O God, Thy will be done." | 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.