Father William
“You are old, Father William,” the young man said,“And your hair has become very white;And yet you incessantly stand on your head--Do you think, at your age, it is right?”
“In my youth,” Father William replied to his son,“I feared it might injure the brain;But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,Why, I do it again and again.”
“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before,And have grown most uncommonly fat;Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--Pray, what is the reason of that?”
“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,“I kept all my limbs very suppleBy the use of this ointment--one shilling the box--Allow me to sell you a couple.”
“You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weakFor anything tougher than suet;Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak:Pray, how did you manage to do it?”
“In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law,And argued each case with my wife;And the muscular strength which it gave to my jawHas lasted the rest of my life.”
“You are old,” said the youth; “one would hardly supposeThat your eye was as steady as ever;Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--What made you so awfully clever?”
“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”Said his father, “don’t give yourself airs!Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?Be off, or I’ll kick you down-stairs!”
Words in this poem
- incessantly adv.
- Unceasingly; continually.
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
- awfully adv.
- In an awful manner; in a manner to fill with terror or awe; fearfully; reverently.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Father William is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems Every Child Should Know The What-Every-Child-Should-Know-Library, Project Gutenberg ebook #16436; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Mary E. Burt, Father William, in Poems Every Child Should Know (1904), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16436, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/poems-every-child/father-william.html, id L25182.
Form and metre
Father William is 32 lines in 8 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is anapaestic common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
See other poems in anapaestic common measure.
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 ABAB saidA · whiteB · headA · rightB
- 2 ABAB sonA · brainB · noneA · againB
- 3 ABAB beforeA · fatB · doorA · thatB
- 4 ABAB locksA · suppleB · boxA · coupleB
- 5 ABAB weakA · suetB · beakA · itB
- 6 ABAB lawA · wifeB · jawA · lifeB
- 7 ABAB supposeA · everB · noseA · cleverB
- 8 ABAB enoughA · airsB · stuffA · stairsB
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 anapaestic common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| “You are old, Father William,” the young man said, | 11 | ···/˘/˘···· |
| “And your hair has become very white; | 9 | ····˘//˘· |
| And yet you incessantly stand on your head-- | 10 | ···˘/˘···· |
| Do you think, at your age, it is right?” | 9 | ········· |
| “In my youth,” Father William replied to his son, | 12 | ···/˘/˘˘/··· |
| “I feared it might injure the brain; | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none, | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Why, I do it again and again.” | 9 | ····˘/·˘/ |
| “You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before, | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| And have grown most uncommonly fat; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door-- | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| Pray, what is the reason of that?” | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| “In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his gray locks, | 12 | ············ |
| “I kept all my limbs very supple | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| By the use of this ointment--one shilling the box-- | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘·· |
| Allow me to sell you a couple.” | 9 | ˘/·····/˘ |
| “You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak | 12 | ············ |
| For anything tougher than suet; | 9 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak: | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| Pray, how did you manage to do it?” | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| “In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law, | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| And argued each case with my wife; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| Has lasted the rest of my life.” | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| “You are old,” said the youth; “one would hardly suppose | 12 | ········/˘˘/ |
| That your eye was as steady as ever; | 9 | ·····/˘·/ |
| Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose-- | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| What made you so awfully clever?” | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| “I have answered three questions, and that is enough,” | 12 | ··/˘·/˘···˘/ |
| Said his father, “don’t give yourself airs! | 9 | ··/˘··/˘· |
| Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| Be off, or I’ll kick you down-stairs!” | 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.