A Vision of St. Eligius
I see thy house, but I am blown about,A wind-mocked kite, between the earth and sky,All out of doors--alas! of thy doors out,And drenched in dews no summer suns can dry.
For every blast is passion of my own;The dews cold sweats of selfish agony;Dank vapour steams from memories lying prone;And all my soul is but a stifled cry.
Lord, thou dost hold my string, else were I drivenDown to some gulf where I were tossed no more,No turmoil telling I was not in heaven,No billows raving on a blessed shore.
Thou standest on thy door-sill, calm as day,And all my throbs and pangs are pulls from thee;Hold fast the string, lest I should break awayAnd outer dark and silence swallow me.
No longer fly thy kite, Lord; draw me home.Thou pull'st the string through all the distance bleak;Lord, I am nearing thee; O Lord, I come;Thy pulls grow stronger and the wind grows weak.
In thy remodelling hands thou tak'st thy kite;A moment to thy bosom hold'st me fast.Thou flingest me abroad:--lo, in thy mightA strong-winged bird I soar on every blast!
Words in this poem
- dank n.
- Moisture; humidity; water.
- vapour n.
- Any substance in the gaseous, or aëriform, state, the condition of which is ordinarily that of a liquid or solid. [OE. vapour, OF. vapour, vapor, vapeur, F. vapeur, L. vapor; probably for cvapor, and akin to Gr. kvepti to breathe, smell, Russ. kopote fine soot. Cf. Vapid.]
- turmoil v. t.
- To harass with commotion; to disquiet; to worry.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Vision of St. Eligius is in the public domain. This text is taken from The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #9984; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: George MacDonald, A Vision of St. Eligius, in A Microcosm in Terza Rima, and Other Poems (1893), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9984, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/macdonald-poems/a-vision-of-st-eligius.html, id L22423.
Form and metre
A Vision of St. Eligius is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 4 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
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 aboutA · skyB · outA · dryB
- 2 A-A- ownA · agony · proneA · cry
- 3 -A-A driven · moreA · heaven · shoreA
- 4 ABAB dayA · theeB · awayA · meB
- 5 ABAB homeA · bleakB · comeA · weakB
- 6 ABAB kiteA · fastB · mightA · blastB
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 see thy house, but I am blown about, | 10 | ·········· |
| A wind-mocked kite, between the earth and sky, | 10 | ·········· |
| All out of doors--alas! of thy doors out, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| And drenched in dews no summer suns can dry. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| For every blast is passion of my own; | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| The dews cold sweats of selfish agony; | 10 | ·····/˘/˘˘ |
| Dank vapour steams from memories lying prone; | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| And all my soul is but a stifled cry. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Lord, thou dost hold my string, else were I driven | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Down to some gulf where I were tossed no more, | 10 | ·········· |
| No turmoil telling I was not in heaven, | 11 | ·/·/˘····/˘ |
| No billows raving on a blessed shore. | 10 | ·/˘/˘···˘· |
| Thou standest on thy door-sill, calm as day, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And all my throbs and pangs are pulls from thee; | 10 | ·········· |
| Hold fast the string, lest I should break away | 10 | ········˘/ |
| And outer dark and silence swallow me. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| No longer fly thy kite, Lord; draw me home. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Thou pull'st the string through all the distance bleak; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Lord, I am nearing thee; O Lord, I come; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Thy pulls grow stronger and the wind grows weak. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| In thy remodelling hands thou tak'st thy kite; | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| A moment to thy bosom hold'st me fast. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Thou flingest me abroad:--lo, in thy might | 10 | ·/˘·˘/···· |
| A strong-winged bird I soar on every blast! | 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.