On an Infant dying as soon as born
I saw where in the shroud did lurkA curious frame of Nature’s work;A floweret crush’d in the bud,A nameless piece of Babyhood,Was in her cradle-coffin lying;Extinct, with scarce the sense of dying:So soon to exchange the imprisoning wombFor darker closets of the tomb!She did but ope an eye, and putA clear beam forth, then straight up shutFor the long dark: ne’er more to seeThrough glasses of mortality.Riddle of destiny, who can showWhat thy short visit meant, or knowWhat thy errand here below?Shall we say that Nature blindCheck’d her hand, and changed her mind,Just when she had exactly wroughtA finish’d pattern without fault?Could she flag, or could she tire,Or lack’d she the Promethean fire(With her nine moons’ long workings sicken’d)That should thy little limbs have quicken’d?Limbs so firm, they seem’d to assureLife of health, and days mature:Woman’s self in miniature!Limbs so fair, they might supply(Themselves now but cold imagery)The sculptor to make Beauty by.Or did the stern-eyed Fate descryThat babe or mother, one must die;So in mercy left the stockAnd cut the branch; to save the shockOf young years widow’d, and the painWhen single state comes back againTo the lone man who, reft of wife,Thenceforward drags a maimèd life?The economy of Heaven is dark,And wisest clerks have miss’d the mark,Why human buds, like this, should fall,More brief than fly ephemeralThat has his day; while shrivell’d cronesStiffen with age to stocks and stones;And crabbèd use the conscience searsIn sinners of an hundred years.Mother’s prattle, mother’s kiss,Baby fond, thou ne’er wilt miss:Rites, which custom does impose,Silver bells, and baby clothes;Coral redder than those lipsWhich pale death did late eclipse;Music framed for infants’ glee,Whistle never tuned for thee;Though thou want’st not, thou shalt have them,Loving hearts were they which gave them.Let not one be missing; nurse,See them laid upon the hearseOf infant slain by doom perverse.Why should kings and nobles havePictured trophies to their grave,And we, churls, to thee denyThy pretty toys with thee to lie--A more harmless vanity?
Words in this poem 21
- curious a.
- Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
- floweret n.
- A small flower; a floret.
- nameless a.
- Without a name; not having been given a name; as, a nameless star.
- babyhood n.
- The state or period of infancy.
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- womb n.
- The belly; the abdomen. [OE. wombe, wambe, AS. wamb, womb; akin to D. wam belly, OS. & OHG. wamba, G. wamme, wampe, Icel. vömb, Sw. v&mb, Dan. vom, Goth. wamba.]
- mortality n.
- The condition or quality of being mortal; subjection to death or to the necessity of dying. [L. mortalitas: cf. F. mortalité.]
- 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,]
- promethean a.
- Of or pertaining to Prometheus. See Prometheus. [L. Promethus: cf. F. prométhéen.]
- miniature n.
- Originally, a painting in colors such as those in mediæval manuscripts; in modern times, any very small painting, especially a portrait. [It. miniatura, fr. L. miniare. See Miniate, v.,Minium.]
- imagery n.
- The work of one who makes images or visible representation of objects; imitation work; images in general, or in mass. [OE. imagerie, F. imagerie.]
- sculptor n.
- One who sculptures; one whose occupation is to carve statues, or works of sculpture. [L. sculptor, fr. sculpere, sculptum, to carve; cf. scalpere to cut, carve, scratch, and Gr. sculpteur.]
- descry
- , Discovery or view, as of an army seen at a distance.
- babe n.
- An infant; a young child of either sex; a baby. [Cf. Ir. bab, baban, W. baban, maban.]
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- reft n.
- A chink; a rift. See Rift. Rom. of R.
- thenceforward adv.
- From that time onward; thenceforth.
- conscience n.
- Knowledge of one's own thoughts or actions; consciousness. [F. conscience, fr. L. conscientia, fr. consciens, p.pr. of conscire to know, to be conscious; con- + scire to know. See Science.]
- glee n.
- Music; minstrelsy; entertainment.
- shalt
- 2d per. sing. of Shall.
- pictured a.
- Furnished with pictures; represented by a picture or pictures; as, a pictured scene.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
On an Infant dying as soon as born 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: Charles Lamb, On an Infant dying as soon as born, in Poems (1775–1834), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66619, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/obev-charles-lamb/on-an-infant-dying-as-soon-as-born.html, id L16178.
Form and metre
On an Infant dying as soon as born is 63 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.8 syllables. 9 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 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 AABBCCDD----EEEFF--GGHHIIIJ-JJJKK--LLMMNN--OOPP--QQRR--SSSTTUU- lurkA · workA · budB · babyhoodB · lyingC · dyingC · wombD · tombD · put · shut · see · mortality · showE · knowE · belowE · blindF · mindF · wrought · fault · tireG · fireG · sicken'dH · quicken'dH · assureI · matureI · miniatureI · supplyJ · imagery · byJ · descryJ · dieJ · stockK · shockK · pain · again · wifeL · lifeL · darkM · markM · fallN · ephemeralN · crones · stones · searsO · yearsO · kissP · missP · impose · clothes · lipsQ · eclipseQ · gleeR · theeR · them · them · nurseS · hearseS · perverseS · haveT · graveT · denyU · lieU · vanity
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 |
|---|---|---|
| I saw where in the shroud did lurk | 8 | ········ |
| A curious frame of Nature’s work; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| A floweret crush’d in the bud, | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| A nameless piece of Babyhood, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Was in her cradle-coffin lying; | 9 | ···/˘/˘/˘ |
| Extinct, with scarce the sense of dying: | 9 | ˘/·····/˘ |
| So soon to exchange the imprisoning womb | 10 | ···˘/·˘/˘· |
| For darker closets of the tomb! | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| She did but ope an eye, and put | 8 | ········ |
| A clear beam forth, then straight up shut | 8 | ········ |
| For the long dark: ne’er more to see | 8 | ········ |
| Through glasses of mortality. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Riddle of destiny, who can show | 8 | /˘·/˘··· |
| What thy short visit meant, or know | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| What thy errand here below? | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Shall we say that Nature blind | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Check’d her hand, and changed her mind, | 8 | ·····˘·· |
| Just when she had exactly wrought | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| A finish’d pattern without fault? | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Could she flag, or could she tire, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Or lack’d she the Promethean fire | 9 | ····˘/˘˘/ |
| (With her nine moons’ long workings sicken’d) | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| That should thy little limbs have quicken’d? | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| Limbs so firm, they seem’d to assure | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Life of health, and days mature: | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Woman’s self in miniature! | 8 | /˘··/˘˘· |
| Limbs so fair, they might supply | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| (Themselves now but cold imagery) | 8 | ˘/···/˘˘ |
| The sculptor to make Beauty by. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Or did the stern-eyed Fate descry | 8 | ······˘/ |
| That babe or mother, one must die; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| So in mercy left the stock | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| And cut the branch; to save the shock | 8 | ········ |
| Of young years widow’d, and the pain | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| When single state comes back again | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| To the lone man who, reft of wife, | 8 | ········ |
| Thenceforward drags a maimèd life? | 8 | ········ |
| The economy of Heaven is dark, | 8 | ·˘/˘·/·· |
| And wisest clerks have miss’d the mark, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Why human buds, like this, should fall, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| More brief than fly ephemeral | 8 | ····˘/˘˘ |
| That has his day; while shrivell’d crones | 8 | ········ |
| Stiffen with age to stocks and stones; | 8 | /˘······ |
| And crabbèd use the conscience sears | 7 | ····/˘· |
| In sinners of an hundred years. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Mother’s prattle, mother’s kiss, | 7 | /˘/˘/˘· |
| Baby fond, thou ne’er wilt miss: | 7 | /˘····· |
| Rites, which custom does impose, | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| Silver bells, and baby clothes; | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| Coral redder than those lips | 7 | /˘/˘··· |
| Which pale death did late eclipse; | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Music framed for infants’ glee, | 8 | /˘·˘·/˘· |
| Whistle never tuned for thee; | 8 | /˘/˘·˘·· |
| Though thou want’st not, thou shalt have them, | 8 | ········ |
| Loving hearts were they which gave them. | 8 | /˘······ |
| Let not one be missing; nurse, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| See them laid upon the hearse | 7 | ······· |
| Of infant slain by doom perverse. | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Why should kings and nobles have | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Pictured trophies to their grave, | 8 | /˘˘/˘··· |
| And we, churls, to thee deny | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Thy pretty toys with thee to lie-- | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| A more harmless vanity? | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
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