In the Mile End Road
How like her! But ’tis she herself,Comes up the crowded street,How little did I think, the morn,My only love to meet!
Whose else that motion and that mien?Whose else that airy tread?For one strange moment I forgotMy only love was dead.
Words in this poem
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
In the Mile End Road 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, In the Mile End Road, in A London Plane-Tree, and Other Verse (1889), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #56974, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/levy-london-plane-tree/in-the-mile-end-road.html, id L21545.
Form and metre
In the Mile End Road is 8 lines in 2 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
See other poems in common measure.
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 herself · streetA · morn · meetA
- 2 -A-A mien · treadA · forgot · deadA
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 common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| How like her! But ’tis she herself, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Comes up the crowded street, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| How little did I think, the morn, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| My only love to meet! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Whose else that motion and that mien? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Whose else that airy tread? | 6 | ···/˘· |
| For one strange moment I forgot | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| My only love was dead. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
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.