Pécheresse
Down the long quay the slow boats glide,While here and there a house looms whiteAgainst the gloom of the waterside,And some high window throws a lightAs they sail out into the night.
At dawn they will bring in againTo women knitting on the quayWho wait for him, their man of men;I stand with them, and watch the seaWhich may have taken mine from me.
Just so the long days come and go.The nights, ma Doué! the nights are cold!Our Lady’s heart is as frozen snow,Since this one sin I have not told;And I shall die or perhaps grow old
Before he comes. The foreign shipsBring many a one of face and nameAs strange as his, to buy your lips,A gold piece for a scarlet shameLike mine. But mine was not the same.
One night was ours, one short grey dayOf sudden sin, unshrived, untold.He found me, and I lost the wayTo Paradise for him. I soldMy soul for love and not for gold.
He bought my soul, but even so,My face is all that he has seen,His is the only face I know,And in the dark church, like a screen,It shuts God out; it comes between;
While in some narrow foreign streetOr loitering on the crowded quay,Who knows what others he may meetTo turn his eyes away from me?Many are fair to such as he!
There is but one for such as ITo love, to hate, to hunger for;I shall, perhaps, grow old and die,With one short day to spend and store,One night, in all my life, no more.
Just so the long days come and go,Yet this one sin I will not tellThough Mary’s heart is as frozen snowAnd all nights are cold for one warmed too well.But, oh! ma Doué! the nights of Hell!
Words in this poem
- quay n.
- A mole, bank, or wharf, formed toward the sea, or at the side of a harbor, river, or other navigable water, for convenience in loading and unloading vessels. [F. quai. See Key quay.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- untold a.
- Not told; not related; not revealed; as, untold secrets.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Pécheresse is in the public domain. This text is taken from The farmer's bride, Project Gutenberg ebook #71305; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Charlotte Mew, Pécheresse, in The Farmer's Bride (1916), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #71305, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/mew-farmers-bride/p-cheresse.html, id L02461.
Form and metre
Pécheresse is 45 lines in 9 stanzas of 5 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABABB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.1 syllables. 38% 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.
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 ABABB glideA · whiteB · watersideA · lightB · nightB
- 2 ABABB againA · quayB · menA · seaB · meB
- 3 ABABB goA · coldB · snowA · toldB · oldB
- 4 ABABB shipsA · nameB · lipsA · shameB · sameB
- 5 ABABB dayA · untoldB · wayA · soldB · goldB
- 6 ABABB soA · seenB · knowA · screenB · betweenB
- 7 ABABB streetA · quayB · meetA · meB · heB
- 8 ABABB iA · forB · dieA · storeB · moreB
- 9 ABABB goA · tellB · snowA · wellB · hellB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Down the long quay the slow boats glide, | 8 | ········ |
| While here and there a house looms white | 8 | ········ |
| Against the gloom of the waterside, | 9 | ········· |
| And some high window throws a light | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| As they sail out into the night. | 8 | ········ |
| At dawn they will bring in again | 8 | ······˘/ |
| To women knitting on the quay | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Who wait for him, their man of men; | 8 | ········ |
| I stand with them, and watch the sea | 8 | ········ |
| Which may have taken mine from me. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Just so the long days come and go. | 8 | ········ |
| The nights, ma Doué! the nights are cold! | 8 | ········ |
| Our Lady’s heart is as frozen snow, | 9 | //˘···/˘· |
| Since this one sin I have not told; | 8 | ········ |
| And I shall die or perhaps grow old | 9 | ·····˘/·· |
| Before he comes. The foreign ships | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Bring many a one of face and name | 8 | ·/······ |
| As strange as his, to buy your lips, | 8 | ········ |
| A gold piece for a scarlet shame | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Like mine. But mine was not the same. | 8 | ········ |
| One night was ours, one short grey day | 8 | ···/···· |
| Of sudden sin, unshrived, untold. | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| He found me, and I lost the way | 8 | ········ |
| To Paradise for him. I sold | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| My soul for love and not for gold. | 8 | ········ |
| He bought my soul, but even so, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| My face is all that he has seen, | 8 | ········ |
| His is the only face I know, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And in the dark church, like a screen, | 8 | ········ |
| It shuts God out; it comes between; | 8 | ········ |
| While in some narrow foreign street | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Or loitering on the crowded quay, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Who knows what others he may meet | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| To turn his eyes away from me? | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Many are fair to such as he! | 8 | /˘······ |
| There is but one for such as I | 8 | ········ |
| To love, to hate, to hunger for; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I shall, perhaps, grow old and die, | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| With one short day to spend and store, | 8 | ········ |
| One night, in all my life, no more. | 8 | ········ |
| Just so the long days come and go, | 8 | ········ |
| Yet this one sin I will not tell | 8 | ········ |
| Though Mary’s heart is as frozen snow | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| And all nights are cold for one warmed too well. | 10 | ·········· |
| But, oh! ma Doué! the nights of Hell! | 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.