Love Song
My own dear love, he is strong and boldAnd he cares not what comes after.His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,And his eyes are lit with laughter.He is jubilant as a flag unfurled--Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him.My own dear love, he is all my world,--And I wish I'd never met him.
My love, he's mad, and my love, he's fleet,And a wild young wood-thing bore him!The ways are fair to his roaming feet,And the skies are sunlit for him.As sharply sweet to my heart he seemsAs the fragrance of acacia.My own dear love, he is all my dreams,--And I wish he were in Asia.
My love runs by like a day in June,And he makes no friends of sorrows.He'll tread his galloping rigadoonIn the pathway of the morrows.He'll live his days where the sunbeams start,Nor could storm or wind uproot him.My own dear love, he is all my heart,--And I wish somebody'd shoot him.
Words in this poem
- chime n.
- The harmonious sound of bells, or of musical instruments. [OE. chimbe, prop., cymbal, OF. cymbe, cymble, in a dialectic form, chymble, F. cymbale, L. cymbalum, fr. Gr. Cymbal.]
- jubilant a.
- Uttering songs of triumph; shouting with joy; triumphant; exulting. [L. jubilans, -antis, p. pr. of jubilare to shout for joy: cf. F. jubila. See Jubilate.]
- sunlit a.
- Lighted by the sun.
- galloping a.
- Going at a gallop; progressing rapidly; as, a galloping horse.
- rigadoon n.
- A gay, lively dance for one couple, -- said to have been borrowed from Provence in France. W. Irving. [F. rigadon, rigaudon.]
- pathway n.
- A footpath; a beaten track; any path or course. Also used figuratively.
- uproot v. t.
- To root up; to tear up by the roots, or as if by the roots; to remove utterly; to eradicate; to extirpate.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Love Song is in the public domain. This text is taken from Enough Rope: Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #68353; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Dorothy Parker, Love Song, in Enough Rope (1926), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #68353, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/parker-enough-rope/love-song.html, id L27376.
Form and metre
Love Song is 24 lines in 3 stanzas of 8 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABABCDCD. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 74%).
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 ABABCDCD boldA · afterB · goldA · laughterB · unfurledC · himD · worldC · himD
- 2 ABABCDCD fleetA · himB · feetA · himB · seemsC · acaciaD · dreamsC · asiaD
- 3 ABABCDCD juneA · sorrowsB · rigadoonA · morrowsB · startC · himD · heartC · himD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| My own dear love, he is strong and bold | 9 | ········· |
| And he cares not what comes after. | 8 | ········ |
| His words ring sweet as a chime of gold, | 9 | ········· |
| And his eyes are lit with laughter. | 8 | ······/˘ |
| He is jubilant as a flag unfurled-- | 9 | ··/˘···˘/ |
| Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him. | 8 | ·····˘/· |
| My own dear love, he is all my world,-- | 9 | ········· |
| And I wish I'd never met him. | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| My love, he's mad, and my love, he's fleet, | 9 | ········· |
| And a wild young wood-thing bore him! | 8 | ········ |
| The ways are fair to his roaming feet, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| And the skies are sunlit for him. | 8 | ····/··· |
| As sharply sweet to my heart he seems | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| As the fragrance of acacia. | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| My own dear love, he is all my dreams,-- | 9 | ········· |
| And I wish he were in Asia. | 8 | ······/˘ |
| My love runs by like a day in June, | 9 | ········· |
| And he makes no friends of sorrows. | 8 | ······/˘ |
| He'll tread his galloping rigadoon | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| In the pathway of the morrows. | 8 | ··/···/˘ |
| He'll live his days where the sunbeams start, | 9 | ······/·· |
| Nor could storm or wind uproot him. | 8 | ·····˘/· |
| My own dear love, he is all my heart,-- | 9 | ········· |
| And I wish somebody'd shoot him. | 9 | ········· |
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.