A March Day in London
The east wind blows in the street to-day;The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.’Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,Of cold despair and of hot desire,Which chills the flesh to aches and pains,And sends a fever through all the veins.
From end to end, with aimless feet,All day long have I paced the street.My limbs are weary, but in my breastStirs the goad of a mad unrest.I would give anything to stayThe little wheel that turns in my brain;The little wheel that turns all day,That turns all night with might and main.
What is the thing I fear, and why?Nay, but the world is all awry--The wind’s in the east, the sun’s in the skyThe gas-lamps gleam in a golden line;The ruby lights of the hansoms shine,Glance, and flicker like fire-flies bright;The wind has fallen with the night,And once again the town seems fairThwart the mist that hangs i’ the air.
And o’er, at last, my spirit stealsA weary peace; peace that concealsWithin its inner depths the grainOf hopes that yet shall flower again.
Words in this poem
- aimless a.
- Without aim or purpose; as, an aimless life.
- unrest n.
- Want of rest or repose; unquietness; sleeplessness; uneasiness; disquietude.
- flicker v. i.
- To flutter; to flap the wings without flying. [OE. flikeren, flekeren, to flutter, AS. flicerian, flicorian, cf. D. flikkeren to sparkle. Flacker.]
- 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
A March Day in London is in the public domain. This text is taken from A London Plane-Tree, and Other Verse, Project Gutenberg ebook #56974; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Amy Levy, A March Day in London, in A London Plane-Tree, and Other Verse (1889), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #56974, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/levy-london-plane-tree/a-march-day-in-london.html, id L21523.
Form and metre
A March Day in London is 27 lines in 4 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 81% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%).
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, 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 AABBCC dayA · greyA · fireB · desireB · painsC · veinsC
- 2 AABBCDCD feetA · streetA · breastB · unrestB · stayC · brainD · dayC · mainD
- 3 AAABBCCDD whyA · awryA · skyA · lineB · shineB · brightC · nightC · fairD · airD
- 4 AABB stealsA · concealsA · grainB · againB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| The east wind blows in the street to-day; | 9 | ········· |
| The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey. | 9 | ········· |
| ’Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire, | 9 | ········/ |
| Of cold despair and of hot desire, | 9 | ··˘/···˘/ |
| Which chills the flesh to aches and pains, | 8 | ········ |
| And sends a fever through all the veins. | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| From end to end, with aimless feet, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| All day long have I paced the street. | 8 | ········ |
| My limbs are weary, but in my breast | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Stirs the goad of a mad unrest. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| I would give anything to stay | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The little wheel that turns in my brain; | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| The little wheel that turns all day, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| That turns all night with might and main. | 8 | ········ |
| What is the thing I fear, and why? | 8 | ········ |
| Nay, but the world is all awry-- | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The wind’s in the east, the sun’s in the sky | 10 | ·········· |
| The gas-lamps gleam in a golden line; | 9 | ······/˘· |
| The ruby lights of the hansoms shine, | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| Glance, and flicker like fire-flies bright; | 8 | ··/˘·/·· |
| The wind has fallen with the night, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And once again the town seems fair | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| Thwart the mist that hangs i’ the air. | 8 | ········ |
| And o’er, at last, my spirit steals | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| A weary peace; peace that conceals | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Within its inner depths the grain | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Of hopes that yet shall flower 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.