Moods
Oh that a Song would sing itself to meOut of the heart of Nature, or the heartOf man, the child of Nature, not of Art,Fresh as the morning, salt as the salt sea,With just enough of bitterness to beA medicine to this sluggish mood, and startThe life-blood in my veins, and so impartHealing and help in this dull lethargy!Alas! not always doth the breath of songBreathe on us. It is like the wind that blowethAt its own will, not ours, nor tarries long;We hear the sound thereof, but no man knowethFrom whence it comes, so sudden and swift and strong,Nor whither in its wayward course it goeth.
Words in this poem
- lethargy n.
- Morbid drowsiness; continued or profound sleep, from which a person can scarcely be awaked. [F. léthargie, L. letgargia, Gr. Lethe.]
- whither adv.
- To what place; -- used interrogatively; as, whither goest thou [OE. whider. AS. hwider; akin to E. where, who; cf. Goth. hvadre whither. See Who, and cf. Hither, Thither.]
- wayward a.
- Taking one's own way; disobedient; froward; perverse; willful. [OE. weiward, for aweiward, i. e., turned away. See Away, and -ward.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Moods is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Project Gutenberg ebook #1365; 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 Wadsworth Longfellow, Moods, in The Complete Poetical Works (1839–1882), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1365, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/longfellow-poems/moods.html, id L17765.
Form and metre
Moods is 14 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.2 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 57% 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 ABBAABB-CDCDCD meA · heartB · artB · seaA · beA · startB · impartB · lethargy · songC · blowethD · longC · knowethD · strongC · goethD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Oh that a Song would sing itself to me | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Out of the heart of Nature, or the heart | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Of man, the child of Nature, not of Art, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Fresh as the morning, salt as the salt sea, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| With just enough of bitterness to be | 9 | ··˘/·/˘·· |
| A medicine to this sluggish mood, and start | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| The life-blood in my veins, and so impart | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Healing and help in this dull lethargy! | 9 | /˘·····/˘ |
| Alas! not always doth the breath of song | 10 | ˘/·/······ |
| Breathe on us. It is like the wind that bloweth | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| At its own will, not ours, nor tarries long; | 10 | ·····/·/˘· |
| We hear the sound thereof, but no man knoweth | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| From whence it comes, so sudden and swift and strong, | 11 | ·····/˘···· |
| Nor whither in its wayward course it goeth. | 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.