Henri Murger: Musette
YESTERDAY, watching the swallows’ flightThat bring the spring and the season fair,A moment I thought of the beauty brightWho loved me, when she had time to spare;And dreamily, dreamily all the day,I mused on the calendar of the year,The year so near and so far away,When you were lief, and when I was dear.
Your memory has not had time to pass;My youth has days of its lifetime yet;If you only knocked at the door, alas,My heart would open the door, Musette!Still at your name must my sad heart beat;Ah Muse, ah maiden of faithlessness!Return for a moment, and deign to eatThe bread that pleasure was wont to bless.
The tables and curtains, the chairs and all,Friends of our pleasure that looked on our pain,Are glad with the gladness of festival,Hoping to see you at home again;Come, let the days of their mourning pass,The silent friends that are sad for you yet;The little sofa, the great wine glass—For know you had often my share, Musette.
Come, you shall wear the raiment whiteYou wore of old, when the world was gay,We will wander in woods of the heart’s delightThe whole of the Sunday holiday.Come, we will sit by the wayside inn,Come, and your song will gain force to fly,Dipping its wing in the clear and thinWine, as of old, ere it scale the sky.
Musette, who had scarcely forgotten withalOne beautiful dawn of the new year’s best,Returned at the end of the carnival,A flown bird, to a forsaken nest.Ah faithless and fair! I embrace her yet,With no heart-beat, and with never a sigh;And Musette, no longer the old Musette,Declares that I am no longer I.
Farewell, my dear that was once so dear,Dead with the death of our latest love;Our youth is laid in its sepulchre,The calendar stands for a stone above.’Tis only in searching the dust of the days,The ashes of all old memories,That we find the key of the woodland waysThat lead to the place of our paradise.
Words in this poem
- dreamily adv.
- As if in a dream; softly; slowly; languidly.
- lifetime n.
- The time that life continues.
- musette n.
- A small bagpipe formerly in use, having a soft and sweet tone. [F., dim. of OF. muse.]
- deign v. t.
- To esteem worthy; to consider worth notice; -- opposed to disdain. [OE. deinen, deignen, OF. degner, deigner, daigner, F. daigner, fr. L. dignari to deem worthy, deign, fr. dignus worthy; akin to decere to be fitting. See Decent]
- 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,]
- wayside n.
- The side of the way; the edge or border of a road or path.
- withal adv.
- With this; with that. [With + all.]
- flown a.
- Flushed, inflated.
- sepulchre n.
- The place in which the dead body of a human being is interred, or a place set apart for that purpose; a grave; a tomb. [OE. sepulcre, OF. sepulcre, F. sépulcre, fr. L. sepulcrum, sepulchrum, fr. sepelire to bury.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Henri Murger: Musette is in the public domain. This text is taken from Ballads and Lyrics of Old France, with Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #795, the Andrew Lang translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Various, Henri Murger: Musette, in Ballads and Lyrics of Old France (1872), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #795, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/lang-old-france/musette.html, id L26914.
Form and metre
Henri Murger: Musette is 48 lines in 6 stanzas of 8 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCDCD, complete in 5 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 75%).
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 ABABCDCD flightA · fairB · brightA · spareB · dayC · yearD · awayC · dearD
- 2 ABABCDCD passA · yetB · alasA · musetteB · beatC · faithlessnessD · eatC · blessD
- 3 ABABCDCD allA · painB · festivalA · againB · passC · yetD · glassC · musetteD
- 4 ABABCDCD whiteA · gayB · delightA · holidayB · innC · flyD · thinC · skyD
- 5 ABABCDCD withalA · bestB · carnivalA · nestB · yetC · sighD · musetteC · iD
- 6 -A-ABBB- dear · loveA · sepulchre · aboveA · daysB · memoriesB · waysB · paradise
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 |
|---|---|---|
| YESTERDAY, watching the swallows’ flight | 9 | /˘·/˘·/˘· |
| That bring the spring and the season fair, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| A moment I thought of the beauty bright | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Who loved me, when she had time to spare; | 9 | ········· |
| And dreamily, dreamily all the day, | 10 | ·/˘˘/˘˘··· |
| I mused on the calendar of the year, | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| The year so near and so far away, | 9 | ·······˘/ |
| When you were lief, and when I was dear. | 9 | ········· |
| Your memory has not had time to pass; | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| My youth has days of its lifetime yet; | 9 | ······/·· |
| If you only knocked at the door, alas, | 10 | ··/˘····˘/ |
| My heart would open the door, Musette! | 9 | ···/˘··˘/ |
| Still at your name must my sad heart beat; | 9 | ········· |
| Ah Muse, ah maiden of faithlessness! | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Return for a moment, and deign to eat | 10 | ˘/··/˘···· |
| The bread that pleasure was wont to bless. | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| The tables and curtains, the chairs and all, | 10 | ·/˘·/˘···· |
| Friends of our pleasure that looked on our pain, | 10 | ··//˘···/· |
| Are glad with the gladness of festival, | 9 | ····/˘·/˘ |
| Hoping to see you at home again; | 9 | /˘·····˘/ |
| Come, let the days of their mourning pass, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| The silent friends that are sad for you yet; | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| The little sofa, the great wine glass— | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| For know you had often my share, Musette. | 10 | ····/˘··˘/ |
| Come, you shall wear the raiment white | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| You wore of old, when the world was gay, | 9 | ········· |
| We will wander in woods of the heart’s delight | 11 | ··/˘·····˘/ |
| The whole of the Sunday holiday. | 9 | ····/·/˘· |
| Come, we will sit by the wayside inn, | 9 | ······/·· |
| Come, and your song will gain force to fly, | 9 | ········· |
| Dipping its wing in the clear and thin | 9 | /˘······· |
| Wine, as of old, ere it scale the sky. | 9 | ········· |
| Musette, who had scarcely forgotten withal | 11 | ˘/··/˘˘/˘˘/ |
| One beautiful dawn of the new year’s best, | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| Returned at the end of the carnival, | 9 | ˘/·····/˘ |
| A flown bird, to a forsaken nest. | 9 | ·····˘/˘· |
| Ah faithless and fair! I embrace her yet, | 10 | ·/˘···˘/·· |
| With no heart-beat, and with never a sigh; | 9 | ······/·· |
| And Musette, no longer the old Musette, | 10 | ·˘/·/˘··˘/ |
| Declares that I am no longer I. | 9 | ˘/····/˘· |
| Farewell, my dear that was once so dear, | 9 | ·/······· |
| Dead with the death of our latest love; | 9 | ·····//˘· |
| Our youth is laid in its sepulchre, | 8 | /······· |
| The calendar stands for a stone above. | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| ’Tis only in searching the dust of the days, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| The ashes of all old memories, | 9 | ·/˘···/˘˘ |
| That we find the key of the woodland ways | 10 | ·······/·· |
| That lead to the place of our paradise. | 10 | ······//˘· |
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