The Old Poet
I will be glad because it is the Spring;I will forget the winter in my heart--Dead hopes and withered promise; and will wringA little joy from life ere life depart.
For spendthrift youth with passion-blinded eyes,Stays not to see how woods and fields are bright;He hears the phantom voices call, he fliesUpon the track of some unknown delight.
To him the tender glory of the May,White wonder of the blossom, and the clear,Soft green of leaves that opened yesterday,This only say: Forward, my friend, not here!
They breathe no other messages than this,They have no other meaning for his heart;Unto his troubled sense they tell of bliss,Which make, themselves, of bliss the better part.
Yea, joy is near him, tho’ he does not know;Her unregarded shape is at his side,Her unheard voice is whispering clear and low,Whom, resting never, seeks he far and wide.
So once it was with us, my heart! To-dayWe will be glad because the leaves are green,Because the fields are fair and soft with May,Nor think on squandered springtimes that have been.
Words in this poem
- depart v. i.
- To part; to divide; to separate. [OE. departen to divide, part, depart, F. départir to divide, distribute, se départir to separate one's self, depart; pref. dé- (L. de) + partir to part, depart,]
- unheard a.
- Not heard; not perceived by the ear; as, words unheard by those present.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Old Poet 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, The Old Poet, in A London Plane-Tree, and Other Verse (1889), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #56974, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/levy-london-plane-tree/the-old-poet.html, id L21560.
Form and metre
The Old Poet is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 5 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%).
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 ABAB springA · heartB · wringA · departB
- 2 ABAB eyesA · brightB · fliesA · delightB
- 3 ABAB mayA · clearB · yesterdayA · hereB
- 4 ABAB thisA · heartB · blissA · partB
- 5 ABAB knowA · sideB · lowA · wideB
- 6 A-A- dayA · green · mayA · been
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 |
|---|---|---|
| I will be glad because it is the Spring; | 10 | ·········· |
| I will forget the winter in my heart-- | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Dead hopes and withered promise; and will wring | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| A little joy from life ere life depart. | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| For spendthrift youth with passion-blinded eyes, | 10 | ·/···/˘/˘· |
| Stays not to see how woods and fields are bright; | 10 | ·········· |
| He hears the phantom voices call, he flies | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Upon the track of some unknown delight. | 10 | ······˘/˘/ |
| To him the tender glory of the May, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| White wonder of the blossom, and the clear, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Soft green of leaves that opened yesterday, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| This only say: Forward, my friend, not here! | 10 | ·/˘·/˘···· |
| They breathe no other messages than this, | 10 | ···/˘/˘˘·· |
| They have no other meaning for his heart; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Unto his troubled sense they tell of bliss, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Which make, themselves, of bliss the better part. | 10 | ··˘/···/˘· |
| Yea, joy is near him, tho’ he does not know; | 10 | ·········· |
| Her unregarded shape is at his side, | 10 | ·········· |
| Her unheard voice is whispering clear and low, | 10 | ·˘/··/˘··· |
| Whom, resting never, seeks he far and wide. | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| So once it was with us, my heart! To-day | 10 | ·········· |
| We will be glad because the leaves are green, | 10 | ·········· |
| Because the fields are fair and soft with May, | 10 | ·········· |
| Nor think on squandered springtimes that have been. | 10 | ···/˘/···· |
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.