Stanzas
“Why will you never listen to an Irish melody?”--Query in aBall-room.
The songs she sung--the songs she sung!How many a sigh they stole!Oh! there be lutes as sweetly strung,But none with half the soulThat dwelt in every silver toneShe drew from each sweet string:Oh! no,--the songs she made her ownI will not hear them sing!
The songs she sung--the songs she sung!How few and faint the wordsOf praise that fell whene’er she flungHer fingers o’er the chords;No plaudit followed when the strainDied on the quivering air,But tears were gushing forth like rain,And lips were quivering there!
The songs she sung--the songs she sung!Long, grieving years are fled,Earth’s yearnings from the heart are flung,Earth’s hopes are with the dead;And worldly wrongs--forgot--forgiven--Sleep in Death’s second birth;But I would only hear in HeavenThe songs she gave to earth!
Words in this poem
- query n.
- A question; an inquiry to be answered or solved. [L. quaere, imperative sing. of quaerere, quaesitum to seek or search for, to ask, inquire. Cf. Acquire, Conquer, Exquisite, Quest, Require.]
- stole n.
- A long, loose garment reaching to the feet. [AS. stole, L. stola, Gr. stall. See Stall.]
- plaudit n.
- A mark or expression of applause; praise bestowed. [From L. plaudite do ye praise (which was said by players at the end of a performance), 2d pers. pl. imperative of plaudere. Cf. Plausible.]
- yearnings n.
- The maws, or stomachs, of young calves, used a rennet for curdling milk. [Cf. AS. geirnan, geyrnan, to rum. See 4th Earn.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Stanzas is in the public domain. This text is taken from The poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed. [selected], Project Gutenberg ebook #71008; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Winthrop Mackworth Praed, Stanzas, in Poems (1820–1839), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #71008, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/praed-poems/stanzas.html, id L10192.
Form and metre
Stanzas is 26 lines in 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.4 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 31% 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.
- 2 ABABCDCD sungA · stoleB · strungA · soulB · toneC · stringD · ownC · singD
- 3 A-A-BCBC sungA · words · flungA · chords · strainB · airC · rainB · thereC
- 4 ABAB-C-C sungA · fledB · flungA · deadB · forgiven · birthC · heaven · earthC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| “Why will you never listen to an Irish melody?”--Query in a | 16 | ···//˘··/˘/˘/˘·· |
| Ball-room. | 2 | ·· |
| The songs she sung--the songs she sung! | 8 | ········ |
| How many a sigh they stole! | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| Oh! there be lutes as sweetly strung, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| But none with half the soul | 6 | ······ |
| That dwelt in every silver tone | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| She drew from each sweet string: | 6 | ······ |
| Oh! no,--the songs she made her own | 8 | ········ |
| I will not hear them sing! | 6 | ······ |
| The songs she sung--the songs she sung! | 8 | ········ |
| How few and faint the words | 6 | ······ |
| Of praise that fell whene’er she flung | 9 | ········· |
| Her fingers o’er the chords; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| No plaudit followed when the strain | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Died on the quivering air, | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| But tears were gushing forth like rain, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And lips were quivering there! | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| The songs she sung--the songs she sung! | 8 | ········ |
| Long, grieving years are fled, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Earth’s yearnings from the heart are flung, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Earth’s hopes are with the dead; | 6 | ······ |
| And worldly wrongs--forgot--forgiven-- | 9 | ·/˘·˘/˘/˘ |
| Sleep in Death’s second birth; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| But I would only hear in Heaven | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| The songs she gave to earth! | 6 | ······ |
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.