Barbara
On the Sabbath-day,Through the churchyard old and gray,Over the crisp and yellow leaves I held my rustling way;And amid the words of mercy, falling on my soul like balms,’Mid the gorgeous storms of music--in the mellow organ-calms,’Mid the upward-streaming prayers, and the rich and solemn psalms,I stood careless, Barbara.
My heart was otherwhere,While the organ shook the air,And the priest, with outspread hands, bless’d the people with a prayer;But when rising to go homeward, with a mild and saint-like shineGleam’d a face of airy beauty with its heavenly eyes on mine--Gleam’d and vanish’d in a moment--O that face was surely thineOut of heaven, Barbara!
O pallid, pallid face!O earnest eyes of grace!When last I saw thee, dearest, it was in another place.You came running forth to meet me with my love-gift on your wrist:The flutter of a long white dress, then all was lost in mist--A purple stain of agony was on the mouth I kiss’d,That wild morning, Barbara.
I searched, in my despair,Sunny noon and midnight air;I could not drive away the thought that you were lingering there.O many and many a winter night I sat when you were gone,My worn face buried in my hands, beside the fire alone--Within the dripping churchyard, the rain plashing on your stone,You were sleeping, Barbara.
’Mong angels, do you thinkOf the precious golden linkI clasp’d around your happy arm while sitting by yon brink?Or when that night of gliding dance, of laughter and guitars,Was emptied of its music, and we watch’d, through lattice-bars,The silent midnight heaven creeping o’er us with its stars,Till the day broke, Barbara?
In the years I’ve changed;Wild and far my heart has ranged,And many sins and errors now have been on me avenged;But to you I have been faithful whatsoever good I lack’d:I loved you, and above my life still hangs that love intact--Your love the trembling rainbow, I the reckless cataract.Still I love you, Barbara.
Yet, Love, I am unblest;With many doubts opprest,I wander like the desert wind without a place of rest.Could I but win you for an hour from off that starry shore,The hunger of my soul were still’d; for Death hath told you moreThan the melancholy world doth know--things deeper than all loreYou could teach me, Barbara.
In vain, in vain, in vain!You will never come again.There droops upon the dreary hills a mournful fringe of rain;The gloaming closes slowly round, loud winds are in the tree,Round selfish shores for ever moans the hurt and wounded sea;There is no rest upon the earth, peace is with Death and thee--Barbara!
Words in this poem 18
- churchyard n.
- The ground adjoining a church, in which the dead are buried; a cemetery.
- amid prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- gorgeous a.
- Imposing through splendid or various colors; showy; fine; magnificent. [OF. gorgias beautiful, glorious, vain, luxurious; cf. OF. gorgias ruff, neck handkerchief, and F. gorge throat, and se pengorger to assume airs. Cf. Gorge, n.]
- barbara n.
- The first word in certain mnemonic lines which represent the various forms of the syllogism. It indicates a syllogism whose three propositions are universal affirmatives. Whately. [Coined by logicians.]
- otherwhere adv.
- In or to some other place, or places; elsewhere.
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
- outspread v. t.
- To spread out; to expand; -- usually as a past part. or adj.
- homeward a.
- Being in the direction of home; as, the homeward way.
- sunny a.
- Of or pertaining to the sun; proceeding from, or resembling the sun; hence, shining; bright; brilliant; radiant.
- dripping n.
- A falling in drops, or the sound so made.
- plashing n.
- The cutting or bending and intertwining the branches of small trees, as in hedges.
- brink n.
- The edge, margin, or border of a steep place, as of a precipice; a bank or edge, as of a river or pit; a verge; a border; as, the brink of a chasm. Also Fig. [Dan. brink edge, verge; akin to Sw. brink declivity, hill, Icel. brekka; cf. LG. brink a grassy hill, W. bryn hill, bryncyn hillock.]
- broke v. i.
- To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
- intact a.
- Untouched, especially by anything that harms, defiles, or the like; uninjured; undefiled; left complete or entire. Buckle. [L. intactus; pref. in- not + tactus, p. p. of tangere to touch: cf. F. intact. See In- not, and Tact, Tangent.]
- unblest a.
- Not blest; excluded from benediction; hence, accursed; wretched. [Pref. un- not + blessed, blest.]
- starry a.
- Abounding with stars; adorned with stars.
- dreary a.
- Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
- gloaming n.
- Twilight; dusk; the fall of the evening. [Scot. & North of Eng., and in poetry.] Hogg. [See Gloom.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Barbara is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250-1900, Project Gutenberg ebook #66619; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Alexander Smith, Barbara, in Poems (1829–1867), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66619, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/obev-alexander-smith/barbara.html, id L16241.
Form and metre
Barbara is 56 lines in 8 stanzas of 7 lines each. It is in rhyming couplets, 54% of the lines. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 11.0 syllables. 11 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 11% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in rhyming couplets, 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 AAABBB- dayA · grayA · wayA · balmsB · calmsB · psalmsB · barbara
- 2 AAABBB- otherwhereA · airA · prayerA · shineB · mineB · thineB · barbara
- 3 AAABBB- faceA · graceA · placeA · wristB · mistB · kiss'dB · barbara
- 4 AAA-BB- despairA · airA · thereA · gone · aloneB · stoneB · barbara
- 5 AAABBB- thinkA · linkA · brinkA · guitarsB · barsB · starsB · barbara
- 6 AA-BB-- changedA · rangedA · avenged · lack'dB · intactB · cataract · barbara
- 7 AAABBB- unblestA · opprestA · restA · shoreB · moreB · loreB · barbara
- 8 AAABBB- vainA · againA · rainA · treeB · seaB · theeB · barbara
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 |
|---|---|---|
| On the Sabbath-day, | 5 | ··/˘· |
| Through the churchyard old and gray, | 7 | ··/···· |
| Over the crisp and yellow leaves I held my rustling way; | 14 | ·····/˘····/˘· |
| And amid the words of mercy, falling on my soul like balms, | 15 | ·˘/···/˘/˘····· |
| ’Mid the gorgeous storms of music--in the mellow organ-calms, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘/˘· |
| ’Mid the upward-streaming prayers, and the rich and solemn psalms, | 14 | ··/˘/˘·····/˘· |
| I stood careless, Barbara. | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| My heart was otherwhere, | 6 | ···/˘˘ |
| While the organ shook the air, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| And the priest, with outspread hands, bless’d the people with a prayer; | 14 | ····˘/···/˘··· |
| But when rising to go homeward, with a mild and saint-like shine | 15 | ··/˘··/˘······· |
| Gleam’d a face of airy beauty with its heavenly eyes on mine-- | 16 | ····/˘/˘··/˘˘··· |
| Gleam’d and vanish’d in a moment--O that face was surely thine | 15 | ··/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| Out of heaven, Barbara! | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| O pallid, pallid face! | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| O earnest eyes of grace! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| When last I saw thee, dearest, it was in another place. | 14 | ·····/˘···˘/˘· |
| You came running forth to meet me with my love-gift on your wrist: | 15 | ··/˘··········· |
| The flutter of a long white dress, then all was lost in mist-- | 14 | ·/˘··········· |
| A purple stain of agony was on the mouth I kiss’d, | 14 | ·/˘··/˘˘······ |
| That wild morning, Barbara. | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| I searched, in my despair, | 6 | ····˘/ |
| Sunny noon and midnight air; | 7 | /˘··/·· |
| I could not drive away the thought that you were lingering there. | 15 | ····˘/·····/˘˘· |
| O many and many a winter night I sat when you were gone, | 16 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘······· |
| My worn face buried in my hands, beside the fire alone-- | 15 | ···/˘···˘/·/˘˘/ |
| Within the dripping churchyard, the rain plashing on your stone, | 14 | ···/˘/···/˘··· |
| You were sleeping, Barbara. | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| ’Mong angels, do you think | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Of the precious golden link | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| I clasp’d around your happy arm while sitting by yon brink? | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| Or when that night of gliding dance, of laughter and guitars, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| Was emptied of its music, and we watch’d, through lattice-bars, | 14 | ·/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| The silent midnight heaven creeping o’er us with its stars, | 14 | ·/˘/·/˘/˘····· |
| Till the day broke, Barbara? | 7 | ····/˘˘ |
| In the years I’ve changed; | 5 | ····· |
| Wild and far my heart has ranged, | 7 | ······· |
| And many sins and errors now have been on me avenged; | 14 | ·/˘··/˘·····˘/ |
| But to you I have been faithful whatsoever good I lack’d: | 15 | ······/˘·˘/˘··· |
| I loved you, and above my life still hangs that love intact-- | 14 | ············˘/ |
| Your love the trembling rainbow, I the reckless cataract. | 15 | ···/˘˘/···/˘/˘˘ |
| Still I love you, Barbara. | 7 | ····/˘˘ |
| Yet, Love, I am unblest; | 6 | ······ |
| With many doubts opprest, | 7 | ·/˘·/˘˘ |
| I wander like the desert wind without a place of rest. | 14 | ·/˘··/˘······· |
| Could I but win you for an hour from off that starry shore, | 15 | ·······/˘···/˘· |
| The hunger of my soul were still’d; for Death hath told you more | 14 | ·/˘··········· |
| Than the melancholy world doth know--things deeper than all lore | 15 | ··/˘·˘····/˘··· |
| You could teach me, Barbara. | 7 | ····/˘˘ |
| In vain, in vain, in vain! | 6 | ······ |
| You will never come again. | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| There droops upon the dreary hills a mournful fringe of rain; | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| The gloaming closes slowly round, loud winds are in the tree, | 14 | ·/˘/˘/˘······· |
| Round selfish shores for ever moans the hurt and wounded sea; | 14 | ·/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| There is no rest upon the earth, peace is with Death and thee-- | 14 | ·············· |
| Barbara! | 3 | /˘˘ |
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