Written After Seeing the Painting by Millet
Bowed by the weight of centuries he leansUpon his hoe and gazes on the ground,The emptiness of ages in his face,And on his back the burden of the world.Who made him dead to rapture and despair,A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gaveTo have dominion over sea and land;To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;To feel the passion of Eternity?Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the sunsAnd marked their ways upon the ancient deep?Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulfThere is no shape more terrible than this--More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed--More filled with signs and portents for the soul--More fraught with menace to the universe.
What gulfs between him and the seraphim!Slave of the wheel of labour, what to himAre Plato and the swing of Pleiades?What the long reaches of the peaks of song,The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,Plundered, profaned, and disinherited,Cries protest to the Judges of the World,A protest that is also prophecy.
O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands,Is this the handiwork you give to God,This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?How will you ever straighten up this shape;Touch it again with immortality;Give back the upward looking and the light;Rebuild in it the music and the dream;Make right the immemorial infamies,Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands,How will the future reckon with this Man?How answer his brute question in that hourWhen whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world?How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--With those who shaped him to the thing he is--When this dumb Terror shall reply to God,After the silence of the centuries?
Words in this poem
- stolid a.
- Hopelessly insensible or stupid; not easily aroused or excited; dull; impassive; foolish. [L. stolidus.]
- greed n.
- An eager desire or longing; greediness; as, a greed of gain. [Akin to Goth. grdus hunger, Icel. graedhr. sq. root34. See Greedy.]
- fraught n.
- A freight; a cargo. [OE.fraight, fraght; akin to Dan. fragt, Sw. frakt, D. vracht, G. fracht, cf. OHG. fr merit, reward; perh. from corresponding to E. for + The root of E. own. Cf.]
- seraphim n.
- The Hebrew plural of Seraph. Cf. Cherubim.
- pleiades n.
- The seven daughters of Atlas and the nymph Pleione, fabled to have been made by Jupiter a constellation in the sky.
- aching a.
- That aches; continuously painful. See Ache.
- handiwork n.
- Work done by the hands; hence, any work done personally. [OE. handiwerc, AS. handgeweorc; hand hand + geweorc work; prefix ge- + weorc. See Work.]
- rebuild v. t.
- To build again, as something which has been demolished; to construct anew; as, to rebuild a house, a wall, a wharf, or a city.
- immemorial a.
- Extending beyond the reach of memory, record, or tradition; indefinitely ancient; as, existing from time immemorial. [Pref. im- not + memorial: cf. F. immémorial.]
- immedicable a.
- Not to be healed; incurable. [L. Immedicabilis. See In- not, and Medicable.]
- 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,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Written After Seeing the Painting by Millet 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, Written After Seeing the Painting by Millet, in Poems Every Child Should Know (1904), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16436, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/poems-every-child/written-after-seeing-the-painting-by-millet.html, id L25338.
Form and metre
Written After Seeing the Painting by Millet is 49 lines in 5 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
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.
- 4 -------AA lands · god · quenched · shape · immortality · light · dream · infamiesA · woesA
- 5 -----A-A lands · man · hour · world · kings · isA · god · centuriesA
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| The emptiness of ages in his face, | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘··· |
| And on his back the burden of the world. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Who made him dead to rapture and despair, | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| A thing that grieves not and that never hopes, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox? | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw? | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Whose breath blew out the light within this brain? | 10 | ·········· |
| Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave | 10 | ·········· |
| To have dominion over sea and land; | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| To trace the stars and search the heavens for power; | 11 | ·······/˘·/ |
| To feel the passion of Eternity? | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns | 10 | ·········· |
| And marked their ways upon the ancient deep? | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf | 10 | ·········· |
| There is no shape more terrible than this-- | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| More tongued with censure of the world’s blind greed-- | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| More filled with signs and portents for the soul-- | 10 | ·····/···· |
| More fraught with menace to the universe. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| What gulfs between him and the seraphim! | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| Slave of the wheel of labour, what to him | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades? | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| What the long reaches of the peaks of song, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose? | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Through this dread shape the suffering ages look; | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop; | 10 | ·/˘˘···/˘· |
| Through this dread shape humanity betrayed, | 10 | ····˘/˘˘˘/ |
| Plundered, profaned, and disinherited, | 10 | /˘˘/······ |
| Cries protest to the Judges of the World, | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| A protest that is also prophecy. | 10 | ·/···/˘/˘˘ |
| O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Is this the handiwork you give to God, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched? | 10 | ·/˘·˘/˘··· |
| How will you ever straighten up this shape; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Touch it again with immortality; | 10 | ··˘/··˘/˘˘ |
| Give back the upward looking and the light; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Rebuild in it the music and the dream; | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| Make right the immemorial infamies, | 11 | ····˘/˘˘/˘˘ |
| Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes? | 11 | ˘/˘˘·˘/˘˘˘· |
| O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| How will the future reckon with this Man? | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| How answer his brute question in that hour | 11 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| When whirlwinds of rebellion shake the world? | 10 | ·/··˘/˘··· |
| How will it be with kingdoms and with kings-- | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| With those who shaped him to the thing he is-- | 10 | ·········· |
| When this dumb Terror shall reply to God, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| After the silence of the centuries? | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
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.