That Holy Thing
They all were looking for a kingTo slay their foes, and lift them high:Thou cam'st a little baby thingThat made a woman cry.
O son of man, to right my lotNought but thy presence can avail;Yet on the road thy wheels are not,Nor on the sea thy sail!
My fancied ways why shouldst thou heed?Thou com'st down thine own secret stair:Com'st down to answer all my need,Yea, every bygone prayer!
Words in this poem
- bygone n.
- Something gone by or past; a past event.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
That Holy Thing 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, That Holy Thing, in A Microcosm in Terza Rima, and Other Poems (1893), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9984, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/macdonald-poems/that-holy-thing.html, id L22488.
Form and metre
That Holy Thing is 12 lines in 3 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
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.
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 kingA · highB · thingA · cryB
- 2 ABAB lotA · availB · notA · sailB
- 3 ABAB heedA · stairB · needA · prayerB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| They all were looking for a king | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| To slay their foes, and lift them high: | 8 | ········ |
| Thou cam'st a little baby thing | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| That made a woman cry. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| O son of man, to right my lot | 8 | ········ |
| Nought but thy presence can avail; | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Yet on the road thy wheels are not, | 8 | ········ |
| Nor on the sea thy sail! | 6 | ······ |
| My fancied ways why shouldst thou heed? | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Thou com'st down thine own secret stair: | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Com'st down to answer all my need, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Yea, every bygone prayer! | 7 | ·/˘˘/·· |
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.