The Exile
We told her that her far off shore was bleak and dour to view,And that her sky was dull and mirk while ours was smiling blue.She only sighed in answer, "It is even as ye say,But oh, the ragged splendor when the sun bursts through the gray!"
We brought her dew-wet roses from our fairest summer bowers,We bade her drink their fragrance, we heaped her lap with flowers;She only said, with eyes that yearned, "Oh, if ye might have broughtThe pale, unscented blossoms by my father's lowly cot!"
We bade her listen to the birds that sang so madly sweet,The lyric of the laughing stream that dimpled at our feet;"But, O," she cried, "I weary for the music wild that stirsWhen keens the mournful western wind among my native firs!"
We told her she had faithful friends and loyal hearts anear,We prayed her take the fresher loves, we prayed her be of cheer;"Oh, ye are kind and true," she wept, "but woe's me for the graceOf tenderness that shines upon my mother's wrinkled face!"
Words in this poem
- dour a.
- Hard; inflexible; obstinate; sour in aspect; hardy; bold. [Cf. F. dur, L. durus.]
- mirk a.
- Dark; gloomy; murky. Spenser. Mrs. Browning. [See Murky.]
- bade
- A form of the pat tense of Bid.
- madly adv.
- In a mad manner; without reason or understanding; wildly. [From Mad, a.]
- anear v. t.
- To near; to approach.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Exile is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Watchman and Other Poems (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1917; Toronto: McClelland, Goodchild and Stewart, 1916), Internet Archive; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: L. M. Montgomery, The Exile, in The Watchman and Other Poems (1916), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/montgomery-watchman/the-exile.html, id L29426.
Form and metre
The Exile is 16 lines in 4 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes AABB. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%).
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
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 AABB viewA · blueA · sayB · grayB
- 2 AABB bowersA · flowersA · broughtB · cotB
- 3 AABB sweetA · feetA · stirsB · firsB
- 4 AABB anearA · cheerA · graceB · faceB
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 heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| We told her that her far off shore was bleak and dour to view, | 14 | ···········/·· |
| And that her sky was dull and mirk while ours was smiling blue. | 14 | ·········/·/˘· |
| She only sighed in answer, "It is even as ye say, | 14 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| But oh, the ragged splendor when the sun bursts through the gray!" | 14 | ···/˘/˘······· |
| We brought her dew-wet roses from our fairest summer bowers, | 15 | ·····/˘·//˘/˘/˘ |
| We bade her drink their fragrance, we heaped her lap with flowers; | 14 | ·····/˘·····/˘ |
| She only said, with eyes that yearned, "Oh, if ye might have brought | 14 | ·/˘··········· |
| The pale, unscented blossoms by my father's lowly cot!" | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘/˘· |
| We bade her listen to the birds that sang so madly sweet, | 14 | ···/˘······/˘· |
| The lyric of the laughing stream that dimpled at our feet; | 14 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘·/· |
| "But, O," she cried, "I weary for the music wild that stirs | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| When keens the mournful western wind among my native firs!" | 14 | ···/˘/˘····/˘· |
| We told her she had faithful friends and loyal hearts anear, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| We prayed her take the fresher loves, we prayed her be of cheer; | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| "Oh, ye are kind and true," she wept, "but woe's me for the grace | 14 | ·············· |
| Of tenderness that shines upon my mother's wrinkled face!" | 14 | ·/˘˘·····/˘/˘· |
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.