To Howard Pyle

Edwin Markham (1852–1940) · 1901

iambic pentameter · heroic couplets · 20 lines · from Lincoln and Other Poems

At her light touch, behold! a voice proceedsOut of all things to chide our sordid deeds;A beauty breaks, a beauty ever strange,The Changeless that is back of all the change.Lightly it comes as when a rose would be—Takes feature yet remains a mystery.

I hear a burst of music on the night!Look at the white whirl of their bodies, seeThe sweep of arms seraphical and free,And over their heads a rush of circling light,That draws them on with mystery and might:But O the wild dance and the deathless song,And O the lifted faces glad and strong—Eternal passion burning still and white!

But she who glances downward, who is she,Her face stilled with the shadow of a pain?The one who let all go for that mad chance?And does some sudden gust of memory,Bringing the earth, sweep back into the brain?...But O the wild white whirl of the wild dance!

Words in this poem

sordid a.
Filthy; foul; dirty. [L. sordidus, fr. sordere to be filthy or dirty; probably akin to E. swart: cf. F. sordide. See Swart, a.]
changeless a.
That can not be changed; constant; as, a changeless purpose.
seraphical a.
Of or pertaining to a seraph; becoming, or suitable to, a seraph; angelic; sublime; pure; refined. [Cf. F. séraphique.]
deathless a.
Not subject to death, destruction, or extinction; immortal; undying; imperishable; as, deathless beings; deathless fame.

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

To Howard Pyle is in the public domain. This text is taken from Lincoln & other poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #54527; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Edwin Markham, To Howard Pyle, in Lincoln and Other Poems (1901), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54527, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/markham-lincoln/to-howard-pyle.html, id L10805.

Form and metre

To Howard Pyle is 20 lines in 3 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 50% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 10% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

See other poems in heroic couplets, 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. 1 AABB-- proceedsA · deedsA · strangeB · changeB · be · mystery
  2. 2 ABBAACCA nightA · seeB · freeB · lightA · mightA · songC · strongC · whiteA
  3. 3 -AB-AB she · painA · chanceB · memory · brainA · danceB
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.

LineSyl.Stress
At her light touch, behold! a voice proceeds10····˘/··˘/
Out of all things to chide our sordid deeds;10······//˘·
A beauty breaks, a beauty ever strange,10·/˘··/˘/˘·
The Changeless that is back of all the change.10·/˘·······
Lightly it comes as when a rose would be—10/˘········
Takes feature yet remains a mystery.10·/˘·˘/·/˘˘
I hear a burst of music on the night!10·····/˘···
Look at the white whirl of their bodies, see10·······/˘·
The sweep of arms seraphical and free,10··········
And over their heads a rush of circling light,10·······/˘·
That draws them on with mystery and might:10·····/˘˘··
But O the wild dance and the deathless song,10·······/˘·
And O the lifted faces glad and strong—10···/˘/˘···
Eternal passion burning still and white!10˘/˘/˘/˘···
But she who glances downward, who is she,10···/˘/˘···
Her face stilled with the shadow of a pain?10·····/····
The one who let all go for that mad chance?10··········
And does some sudden gust of memory,10···/˘··/˘˘
Bringing the earth, sweep back into the brain?...10/˘········
But O the wild white whirl of the wild dance!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.

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