My Cathedral
Like two cathedral towers these stately pinesUplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;The arch beneath them is not built with stones,Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;No organ but the wind here sighs and moans,No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones.No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,And learn there may be worship with out words.
Words in this poem
- uplift v. t.
- To lift or raise aloft; to raise; to elevate; as, to uplift the arm; to uplift a rock.
- 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
My Cathedral 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, My Cathedral, in The Complete Poetical Works (1839–1882), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1365, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/longfellow-poems/my-cathedral.html, id L17810.
Form and metre
My Cathedral is 14 lines in a single stanza. It rhymes ABBAABBACDECDE, the pattern of the Italian sonnet. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 90% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.9 syllables. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other Italian sonnets, 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 ABBAABBACDECDE pinesA · conesB · stonesB · linesA · vinesA · moansB · bonesB · reclinesA · leavesC · treadD · birdsE · eavesC · fledD · wordsE
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Like two cathedral towers these stately pines | 10 | ··˘/˘/·/˘· |
| Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones; | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| The arch beneath them is not built with stones, | 10 | ·········· |
| Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And carved this graceful arabesque of vines; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| No organ but the wind here sighs and moans, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones. | 9 | ···˘/·/˘· |
| No marble bishop on his tomb reclines. | 10 | ·/˘/˘···˘/ |
| Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves, | 9 | /˘·/˘/˘·· |
| Gives back a softened echo to thy tread! | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds, | 10 | /˘·/·/˘··· |
| In leafy galleries beneath the eaves, | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| And learn there may be worship with out words. | 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.