A Lady
You are beautiful and fadedLike an old opera tunePlayed upon a harpsichord;Or like the sun-flooded silksOf an eighteenth-century boudoir.In your eyesSmoulder the fallen roses of out-lived minutes,And the perfume of your soulIs vague and suffusing,With the pungence of sealed spice-jars.Your half-tones delight me,And I grow mad with gazingAt your blent colours.
My vigour is a new-minted penny,Which I cast at your feet.Gather it up from the dust,That its sparkle may amuse you.
Words in this poem
- boudoir n.
- A small room, esp. if pleasant, or elegantly furnished, to which a lady may retire to be alone, or to receive intimate friends; a lady's (or sometimes a gentleman's) private room.
- smoulder v. t.
- To smother; to suffocate; to choke. Holinshed.
- blent p. p.
- Blinded. Also (Chaucer), 3d sing. pres. Blindeth.
- vigour v. t.
- To invigorate. Feltham.
- amuse v. t.
- To occupy or engage the attention of; to lose in deep thought; to absorb; also, to distract; to bewilder. [F. amuser to make stay, to detain, to amuse, ad) + OF. muser. See Muse, v.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Lady is in the public domain. This text is taken from Sword Blades and Poppy Seed, Project Gutenberg ebook #1020; 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 Lowell, A Lady, in Sword Blades and Poppy Seed (1914), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1020, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/lowell-amy-sword-blades/a-lady.html, id L08245.
Form and metre
A Lady is 17 lines in 2 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 74%). 90% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.2 syllables. 6 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 35% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See 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.
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 |
|---|---|---|
| You are beautiful and faded | 8 | ··/˘˘·/˘ |
| Like an old opera tune | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Played upon a harpsichord; | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Or like the sun-flooded silks | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Of an eighteenth-century boudoir. | 9 | ··˘//˘˘/· |
| In your eyes | 3 | ··· |
| Smoulder the fallen roses of out-lived minutes, | 12 | /˘·/˘/˘···/˘ |
| And the perfume of your soul | 7 | ··˘/··· |
| Is vague and suffusing, | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| With the pungence of sealed spice-jars. | 9 | ··/˘··˘·· |
| Your half-tones delight me, | 6 | ···˘/· |
| And I grow mad with gazing | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| At your blent colours. | 5 | ···/˘ |
| My vigour is a new-minted penny, | 10 | ·/˘···/˘/˘ |
| Which I cast at your feet. | 6 | ······ |
| Gather it up from the dust, | 7 | /˘····· |
| That its sparkle may amuse you. | 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.