Written in the Prospect of Death
Sad solitary Thought, who keep'st thy vigils.Thy solemn vigils, in the sick man's mind;Communing lonely with his sinking soul,And musing on the dubious glooms that lieIn dim obscurity before him,--thee,Wrapt in thy dark magnificence, I callAt this still midnight hour, this awful season,When, on my bed, in wakeful restlessness,I turn me wearisome; while all around,All, all, save me, sink in forgetfulness;I only wake to watch the sickly taperWhich lights me to my tomb. Yes, 'tis the handOf death I feel press heavy on my vitals,Slow sapping the warm current of existence.My moments now are few--the sand of lifeEbbs fastly to its finish. Yet a little,And the last fleeting particle will fallSilent, unseen, unnoticed, unlamented.Come then, sad Thought, and let us meditate,While meditate we may.--We have now--But a small portion of what men call timeTo hold communion; for even now the knife,The separating knife, I feel divideThe tender bond that binds my soul to earth.Yes, I must die--I feel that I must die;And though to me has life been dark and dreary,Though Hope for me has smiled but to deceive,And Disappointment still pursued her blandishments,Yet do I feel my soul recoil within meAs I contemplate the dim gulf of death,The shuddering void, the awful blank--futurity.Ay, I had planned full many a sanguine schemeOf earthly happiness--romantic schemes,And fraught with loveliness; and it is hardTo feel the hand of Death arrest one's steps,Throw a chill blight o'er all one's budding hopes,And hurl one's soul untimely to the shades,Lost in the gaping gulf of blank oblivion.Fifty years hence, and who will hear of Henry?Oh! none;--another busy brood of beingsWill shoot up in the interim, and noneWill hold him in remembrance. I shall sinkAs sinks a stranger in the crowded streetsOf busy London:--Some short bustle's caused,A few inquiries, and the crowds close in,And all's forgotten.--On my grassy graveThe men of future times will careless tread,And read my name upon the sculptured stone;Nor will the sound, familiar to their ears,Recall my vanish'd memory. I did hopeFor better things!--I hoped I should not leaveThe earth without a vestige;--Fate decreesIt shall be otherwise, and I submit.Henceforth, oh, world, no more of thy desires!No more of hope! the wanton vagrant Hope!I abjure all. Now other cares engross me,And my tired soul, with emulative haste,Looks to its God, and prunes its wings for heaven.
Words in this poem 19
- dubious a.
- Doubtful or not settled in opinion; being in doubt; wavering or fluctuating; undetermined. [L. dubius, dubiosus, fr. duo two. See Two, and cf. Doubt.]
- magnificence n.
- The act of doing what magnificent; the state or quality of being magnificent. Acts xix. 27. [F. magnificence, L. magnificentia. See Magnific.]
- wakeful a.
- Not sleeping; indisposed to sleep; watchful; vigilant.
- vitals n.
- Organs that are necessary for life; more especially, the heart, lungs, and brain.
- fastly adv.
- Firmly; surely.
- unseen a.
- Not seen or discovered.
- dreary a.
- Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
- disappointment n.
- The act of disappointing, or the state of being disappointed; defeat or failure of expectation or hope; miscarriage of design or plan; frustration. [Cf. F. désappointement.]
- contemplate v. t.
- To look at on all sides or in all its bearings; to view or consider with continued attention; to regard with deliberate care; to meditate on; to study. [L. contemplatus, p.p. of contemplari to contemplate; con- + templum a space for observation marked out by the augur. See Temple.]
- futurity n.
- State of being that is yet to come; future state.
- fraught n.
- A freight; a cargo. [OE.fraight, fraght; akin to Dan. fragt, Sw. frakt, D. vracht, G. fracht, cf. OHG. fr merit, reward; perh. from corresponding to E. for + The root of E. own. Cf.]
- loveliness n.
- The state or quality of being lovely. [From Lovely.]
- 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.]
- interim n.
- The meantime; time intervening; interval between events, etc. [L., fr. inter between + im, an old accusative of is he, this, that.]
- 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,]
- henceforth adv.
- From this time forward; henceforward.
- abjure v. t.
- To renounce upon oath; to forswear; to disavow; as, to abjure allegiance to a prince. To abjure the realm, is to swear to abandon it forever. [L. abjurare to deny upon oath; ab + jurare to swear, fr. jus, juris, right, law; cf. F. abjurer. See Jury.]
- 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.]
- emulative a.
- Inclined to emulation; aspiring to competition; rivaling; as, an emulative person or effort.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Written in the Prospect of Death 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, Written in the Prospect of Death, in The Poetical Works of Henry Kirke White (1803–1806), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #7149, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kirke-white-poems/written-in-the-prospect-of-death.html, id L10060.
Form and metre
Written in the Prospect of Death is 58 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.3 syllables. 16 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 34% 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--B-B-----CC-------D---D--------E--E---E--E---F-F---- vigils · mind · soul · lieA · theeA · call · season · restlessnessB · around · forgetfulnessB · taper · hand · vitals · existence · life · littleC · fallC · unlamented · meditate · now · time · knife · divide · earth · dieD · dreary · deceive · blandishments · meD · death · futurity · scheme · schemes · hard · steps · hopes · shades · oblivionE · henry · beings · noneE · sink · streets · caused · inE · grave · tread · stoneE · ears · hope · leave · decreesF · submit · desiresF · hope · me · haste · heaven
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Sad solitary Thought, who keep'st thy vigils. | 11 | ·/˘·˘····/˘ |
| Thy solemn vigils, in the sick man's mind; | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Communing lonely with his sinking soul, | 10 | ˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| And musing on the dubious glooms that lie | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| In dim obscurity before him,--thee, | 10 | ··˘/˘˘···· |
| Wrapt in thy dark magnificence, I call | 10 | ····˘/˘˘·· |
| At this still midnight hour, this awful season, | 11 | ···/·/·/˘/˘ |
| When, on my bed, in wakeful restlessness, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘˘ |
| I turn me wearisome; while all around, | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| All, all, save me, sink in forgetfulness; | 10 | ······˘/˘˘ |
| I only wake to watch the sickly taper | 11 | ·/˘····/˘/˘ |
| Which lights me to my tomb. Yes, 'tis the hand | 10 | ·········· |
| Of death I feel press heavy on my vitals, | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| Slow sapping the warm current of existence. | 11 | ·/˘··/˘·˘/˘ |
| My moments now are few--the sand of life | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Ebbs fastly to its finish. Yet a little, | 11 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| And the last fleeting particle will fall | 10 | ···/˘/˘˘·· |
| Silent, unseen, unnoticed, unlamented. | 11 | /˘˘/˘/˘···· |
| Come then, sad Thought, and let us meditate, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| While meditate we may.--We have now | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| --But a small portion of what men call time | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| To hold communion; for even now the knife, | 10 | ··˘/˘·/··· |
| The separating knife, I feel divide | 10 | ·/˘·˘···˘/ |
| The tender bond that binds my soul to earth. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Yes, I must die--I feel that I must die; | 10 | ·········· |
| And though to me has life been dark and dreary, | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Though Hope for me has smiled but to deceive, | 10 | ········˘/ |
| And Disappointment still pursued her blandishments, | 11 | ··˘/˘·˘/·/˘ |
| Yet do I feel my soul recoil within me | 11 | ······˘/··· |
| As I contemplate the dim gulf of death, | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| The shuddering void, the awful blank--futurity. | 12 | ·/˘··/˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Ay, I had planned full many a sanguine scheme | 10 | ·····/·/˘· |
| Of earthly happiness--romantic schemes, | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘˘/˘· |
| And fraught with loveliness; and it is hard | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| To feel the hand of Death arrest one's steps, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Throw a chill blight o'er all one's budding hopes, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And hurl one's soul untimely to the shades, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Lost in the gaping gulf of blank oblivion. | 11 | ···/˘···˘/˘ |
| Fifty years hence, and who will hear of Henry? | 11 | /˘·······/˘ |
| Oh! none;--another busy brood of beings | 11 | ··˘/˘/˘··/˘ |
| Will shoot up in the interim, and none | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Will hold him in remembrance. I shall sink | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| As sinks a stranger in the crowded streets | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Of busy London:--Some short bustle's caused, | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| A few inquiries, and the crowds close in, | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| And all's forgotten.--On my grassy grave | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| The men of future times will careless tread, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And read my name upon the sculptured stone; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Nor will the sound, familiar to their ears, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Recall my vanish'd memory. I did hope | 10 | ˘/·/˘/˘··· |
| For better things!--I hoped I should not leave | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| The earth without a vestige;--Fate decrees | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| It shall be otherwise, and I submit. | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Henceforth, oh, world, no more of thy desires! | 11 | //······˘/˘ |
| No more of hope! the wanton vagrant Hope! | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| I abjure all. Now other cares engross me, | 11 | ·˘/··/˘·˘/· |
| And my tired soul, with emulative haste, | 10 | ··/··/˘˘˘· |
| Looks to its God, and prunes its wings for heaven. | 11 | ·········/˘ |
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.