Folly
What distant mountains thrill and glowBeneath our Lady Folly's tread?Why has she left us, wise in woe,Shrewd, practical, uncomforted?We cannot love or dream or sing,We are too cynical to pray,There is no joy in anythingSince Lady Folly went away.
Many a knight and gentle maid,Whose glory shines from years gone by,Through ignorance was unafraidAnd as a fool knew how to die.Saint Folly rode beside JehanneAnd broke the ranks of Hell with her,And Folly's smile shone brightly onChrist's plaything, Brother Juniper.
Our minds are troubled and defiledBy study in a weary school.O for the folly of the child!The ready courage of the fool!Lord, crush our knowledge utterlyAnd make us humble, simple men;And cleansed of wisdom, let us seeOur Lady Folly's face again.
Words in this poem
- shrewd a.
- Inclining to shrew; disposing to curse or scold; hence, vicious; malicious; evil; wicked; mischievous; vexatious; rough; unfair; shrewish. [Originally the p. p. of shrew, v.t.]
- cynical a.
- Having the qualities of a surly dog; snarling; captious; currish. [L. cynicus of the sect of Cynics, fr. Gr. Hound.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- rode n.
- Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
- broke v. i.
- To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
- plaything n.
- A thing to play with; a toy; anything that serves to amuse.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Folly is in the public domain. This text is taken from Trees, and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #263; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Joyce Kilmer, Folly, in Trees and Other Poems (1914), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #263, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kilmer-trees/folly.html, id L12906.
Form and metre
Folly is 24 lines in 3 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 90% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 33% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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-BCBC glowA · tread · woeA · uncomforted · singB · prayC · anythingB · awayC
- 2 ABAB---- maidA · byB · unafraidA · dieB · jehanne · her · on · juniper
- 3 ABAB-C-C defiledA · schoolB · childA · foolB · utterly · menC · see · againC
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| What distant mountains thrill and glow | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Beneath our Lady Folly's tread? | 8 | ··//˘/˘· |
| Why has she left us, wise in woe, | 8 | ········ |
| Shrewd, practical, uncomforted? | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| We cannot love or dream or sing, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| We are too cynical to pray, | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| There is no joy in anything | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Since Lady Folly went away. | 8 | ·/˘/˘·˘/ |
| Many a knight and gentle maid, | 8 | /˘···/˘· |
| Whose glory shines from years gone by, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Through ignorance was unafraid | 8 | ·/˘˘··˘/ |
| And as a fool knew how to die. | 8 | ········ |
| Saint Folly rode beside Jehanne | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| And broke the ranks of Hell with her, | 8 | ········ |
| And Folly's smile shone brightly on | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Christ's plaything, Brother Juniper. | 8 | ·/·/˘/˘˘ |
| Our minds are troubled and defiled | 8 | /··/˘··· |
| By study in a weary school. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| O for the folly of the child! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The ready courage of the fool! | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Lord, crush our knowledge utterly | 9 | ··/˘/˘/˘˘ |
| And make us humble, simple men; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And cleansed of wisdom, let us see | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Our Lady Folly's face again. | 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.