To My Lyre
Thou simple Lyre! thy music wildHas served to charm the weary hour,And many a lonely night has 'guiled,When even pain has own'd, and smiled,Its fascinating power.
Yet, O my Lyre! the busy crowdWill little heed thy simple tones;Them mightier minstrels harping loudEngross,--and thou and I must shroudWhere dark oblivion 'thrones.
No hand, they diapason o'er,Well skill'd I throw with sweep sublime;For me, no academic loreHas taught the solemn strain to pour,Or build the polish'd rhyme.
Yet thou to sylvan themes canst soar;Thou know'st to charm the woodland train;The rustic swains believe thy powerCan hush the wild winds when they roar,And still the billowy main.
These honours, Lyre, we yet may keep,I, still unknown, may live with thee,And gentle zephyr's wing will sweepThy solemn string, where low I sleep,Beneath the alder tree.
This little dirge will please me moreThan the full requiem's swelling peal;I'd rather than that crowds should sighFor me, that from some kindred eyeThe trickling tear should steal.
Yet dear to me the wreath of bay,Perhaps from me debarr'd;And dear to me the classic zone,Which, snatch'd from learning's labour'd throne,Adorns the accepted bard.
And O! if yet 'twere mine to dwellWhere Cam or Isis winds along,Perchance, inspired with ardour chaste,I yet might call the ear of tasteTo listen to my song.
Oh! then, my little friend, thy styleI'd change to happier lays,Oh! then the cloister'd glooms should smile,And through the long, the fretted aisleShould swell the note of praise.
Words in this poem
- harping a.
- Pertaining to the harp; as, harping symphonies.
- engross v. t.
- To make gross, thick, or large; to thicken; to increase in bulk or quantity. [F., fr. pref. en- (L. in) + gros gross, grosse, n., an engrossed document: cf. OF. engrossir, engroissier, to make thick, large, or gross. See Gross.]
- oblivion n.
- The act of forgetting, or the state of being forgotten; cessation of remembrance; forgetfulness. [L. oblivio, akin to oblivisci to forget: cf. OF. oblivion.]
- diapason n.
- The octave, or interval which includes all the tones of the diatonic scale. [L., fr. Gr. i. e., diapason. Cf. Panacea.]
- billowy a.
- Of or pertaining to billows; swelling or swollen into large waves; full of billows or surges; resembling billows.
- alder a.
- Of all; -- used in composition; as, alderbest, best of all, alderwisest, wisest of all. [From ealra, alra, gen. pl. of AS. eal. The d is excrescent.]
- dirge n.
- A piece of music of a mournful character, to accompany funeral rites; a funeral hymn. [Contraction of Lat. dirige, direct thou (imperative of dirigere), the first word of a funeral hymn (Lat. transl. of Psalm v. 8) beginning, "Dirige, Domine, in c]
- peal v. i.
- To appeal. Spencer.
- classic a.
- Of or relating to the first class or rank, especially in literature or art. [L. classicus relating to the classes of the Roman people, and especially to the frist class; hence, of the first rank, superior, from classis class: cf. F. clas]
- dwell v. i.
- To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
- isis n.
- The principal goddess worshiped by the Egyptians. She was regarded as the mother of Horus, and the sister and wife of Osiris.
- ardour n.
- Heat, in a literal sense; as, the ardor of the sun's rays. [L. ardor, fr. ardere to burn: cf. OF. ardor, ardur, F. ardeur.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
To My Lyre is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poetical Works of Henry Kirk White : With a Memoir by Sir Harris Nicolas, Project Gutenberg ebook #7149; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Henry Kirke White, To My Lyre, in The Poetical Works of Henry Kirke White (1803–1806), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #7149, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kirke-white-poems/to-my-lyre.html, id L10087.
Form and metre
To My Lyre is 45 lines in 9 stanzas of 5 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAAB, complete in 5 of its 9 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.8 syllables. 5 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 31% 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 ABAAB wildA · hourB · guiledA · smiledA · powerB
- 2 ABAAB crowdA · tonesB · loudA · shroudA · thronesB
- 3 ABAAB o'erA · sublimeB · loreA · pourA · rhymeB
- 4 AB-AB soarA · trainB · power · roarA · mainB
- 5 ABAAB keepA · theeB · sweepA · sleepA · treeB
- 6 -ABBA more · pealA · sighB · eyeB · stealA
- 7 --AA- bay · debarr'd · zoneA · throneA · bard
- 8 -ABBA dwell · alongA · chasteB · tasteB · songA
- 9 ABAAB styleA · laysB · smileA · aisleA · praiseB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Thou simple Lyre! thy music wild | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Has served to charm the weary hour, | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| And many a lonely night has 'guiled, | 8 | ·/·/˘··· |
| When even pain has own'd, and smiled, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Its fascinating power. | 7 | ·/˘·˘/˘ |
| Yet, O my Lyre! the busy crowd | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Will little heed thy simple tones; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Them mightier minstrels harping loud | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| Engross,--and thou and I must shroud | 8 | ˘/······ |
| Where dark oblivion 'thrones. | 7 | ··˘/˘˘· |
| No hand, they diapason o'er, | 7 | ······· |
| Well skill'd I throw with sweep sublime; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| For me, no academic lore | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| Has taught the solemn strain to pour, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Or build the polish'd rhyme. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Yet thou to sylvan themes canst soar; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Thou know'st to charm the woodland train; | 8 | ·····/·· |
| The rustic swains believe thy power | 9 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘ |
| Can hush the wild winds when they roar, | 8 | ········ |
| And still the billowy main. | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| These honours, Lyre, we yet may keep, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| I, still unknown, may live with thee, | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| And gentle zephyr's wing will sweep | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Thy solemn string, where low I sleep, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Beneath the alder tree. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| This little dirge will please me more | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Than the full requiem's swelling peal; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| I'd rather than that crowds should sigh | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| For me, that from some kindred eye | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The trickling tear should steal. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Yet dear to me the wreath of bay, | 8 | ········ |
| Perhaps from me debarr'd; | 6 | ˘/···· |
| And dear to me the classic zone, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Which, snatch'd from learning's labour'd throne, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Adorns the accepted bard. | 7 | ˘/·˘/˘· |
| And O! if yet 'twere mine to dwell | 8 | ········ |
| Where Cam or Isis winds along, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Perchance, inspired with ardour chaste, | 8 | ˘/˘/·/˘· |
| I yet might call the ear of taste | 8 | ········ |
| To listen to my song. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Oh! then, my little friend, thy style | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| I'd change to happier lays, | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| Oh! then the cloister'd glooms should smile, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And through the long, the fretted aisle | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Should swell the note of praise. | 6 | ······ |
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