Regret
O that word REGRET!There have been nights and morns when we have sighed,"Let us alone, Regret! We are contentTo throw thee all our past, so thou wilt sleepFor aye." But it is patient, and it wakes;It hath not learned to cry itself to sleep,But plaineth on the bed that it is hard.
We did amiss when we did wish it goneAnd over: sorrows humanize our race;Tears are the showers that fertilize this world;And memory of things precious keepeth warmThe heart that once did hold them.They are poorThat have lost nothing; they are poorer farWho, losing, have forgotten; they most poorOf all, who lose and wish they MIGHT forget.
For life is one, and in its warp and woofThere runs a thread of gold that glitters fair,And sometimes in the pattern shows most sweetWhere there are sombre colors. It is trueThat we have wept. But O! this thread of gold,We would not have it tarnish; let us turnOft and look back upon the wondrous web,And when it shineth sometimes we shall knowThat memory is possession.
Words in this poem
- humanize v. t.
- To render human or humane; to soften; to make gentle by overcoming cruel dispositions and rude habits; to refine or civilize. [Cf. F. humaniser.]
- sombre n.
- Gloom; obscurity; duskiness; somberness.
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
- 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,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Regret 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, Regret, in Poems, Volume I (1863), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #13223, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/ingelow-poems/regret.html, id L12840.
Form and metre
Regret is 25 lines in 3 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.3 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 48% 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 ---A-A- regret · sighed · content · sleepA · wakes · sleepA · hard
- 2 -----A-A- gone · race · world · warm · them · poorA · far · poorA · forget
- 3 -----A--A woof · fair · sweet · true · gold · turnA · web · know · possessionA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| O that word REGRET! | 5 | ···˘/ |
| There have been nights and morns when we have sighed, | 10 | ·········· |
| "Let us alone, Regret! We are content | 10 | ··˘/˘/··˘/ |
| To throw thee all our past, so thou wilt sleep | 10 | ····/····· |
| For aye." But it is patient, and it wakes; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| It hath not learned to cry itself to sleep, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| But plaineth on the bed that it is hard. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| We did amiss when we did wish it gone | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| And over: sorrows humanize our race; | 10 | ··/˘/˘·/˘· |
| Tears are the showers that fertilize this world; | 10 | ···/·/˘··· |
| And memory of things precious keepeth warm | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| The heart that once did hold them. | 7 | ······· |
| They are poor | 3 | ··· |
| That have lost nothing; they are poorer far | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Who, losing, have forgotten; they most poor | 10 | ·/˘·˘/˘··· |
| Of all, who lose and wish they MIGHT forget. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| For life is one, and in its warp and woof | 10 | ·········· |
| There runs a thread of gold that glitters fair, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And sometimes in the pattern shows most sweet | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| Where there are sombre colors. It is true | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| That we have wept. But O! this thread of gold, | 10 | ·········· |
| We would not have it tarnish; let us turn | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Oft and look back upon the wondrous web, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And when it shineth sometimes we shall know | 10 | ···/˘/···· |
| That memory is possession. | 8 | ·/˘˘·˘/˘ |
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.