The Inner Chamber
In the outer Court I was singing,Was singing the whole day long;From the inner chamber were ringingEchoes repeating my song.
And I sang till it grew immortal;For that very song of mine,When re-echoed behind the Portal,Was filled with a life divine.
Was the Chamber a silver roundOf arches, whose magical artDrew in coils of musical sound,And cast them back on my heart?
Was there hidden within a lyreWhich, as air breathed over its strings,Filled my song with a soul of fire,And sent back my words with wings?
Was some seraph imprisoned there,Whose voice made my song complete,And whose lingering, soft despair,Made the echo so faint and sweet?
Long I trembled and paused--then partedThe curtains with heavy fringe;And, half fearing, yet eager-heartedTurned the door on its golden hinge.
Now I sing in the court once more,I sing and I weep all day,As I kneel by the close-shut door,For I know what the echoes say.
Yet I sing not the song of old,Ere I knew whence the echo came,Ere I opened the door of gold;But the music sounds just the same.
Then take warning, and turn awayDo not ask of that hidden thing,Do not guess what the echoes say,Or the meaning of what I sing.
Words in this poem
- kneel v. i.
- To bend the knee; to fall or rest on the knees; -- sometimes with down. [OE. knelen, cneolien; akin to D. knielen, Dan. knæle. See Knee.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Inner Chamber is in the public domain. This text is taken from Legends and Lyrics. Part 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #2304; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Adelaide Anne Procter, The Inner Chamber, in Legends and Lyrics: Second Series (1861), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #2304, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/procter-legends-lyrics/the-inner-chamber.html, id L21809.
Form and metre
The Inner Chamber is 36 lines in 9 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 76%).
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 ABAB singingA · longB · ringingA · songB
- 2 ABAB immortalA · mineB · portalA · divineB
- 3 ABAB roundA · artB · soundA · heartB
- 4 ABAB lyreA · stringsB · fireA · wingsB
- 5 ABAB thereA · completeB · despairA · sweetB
- 6 ABAB partedA · fringeB · heartedA · hingeB
- 7 ABAB moreA · dayB · doorA · sayB
- 8 ABAB oldA · cameB · goldA · sameB
- 9 ABAB awayA · thingB · sayA · singB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| In the outer Court I was singing, | 9 | ··/˘···/˘ |
| Was singing the whole day long; | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| From the inner chamber were ringing | 9 | ··/˘/˘·/˘ |
| Echoes repeating my song. | 7 | /˘˘/˘·· |
| And I sang till it grew immortal; | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| For that very song of mine, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| When re-echoed behind the Portal, | 9 | ··/˘···/˘ |
| Was filled with a life divine. | 8 | ··˘···˘/ |
| Was the Chamber a silver round | 8 | ··/˘·/˘· |
| Of arches, whose magical art | 8 | ·/˘·/˘˘· |
| Drew in coils of musical sound, | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| And cast them back on my heart? | 7 | ······· |
| Was there hidden within a lyre | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Which, as air breathed over its strings, | 8 | ········ |
| Filled my song with a soul of fire, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| And sent back my words with wings? | 7 | ······· |
| Was some seraph imprisoned there, | 8 | ··/˘˘/˘· |
| Whose voice made my song complete, | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| And whose lingering, soft despair, | 8 | ··/˘˘·˘/ |
| Made the echo so faint and sweet? | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Long I trembled and paused--then parted | 9 | ··/˘···/˘ |
| The curtains with heavy fringe; | 7 | ·/˘·/˘· |
| And, half fearing, yet eager-hearted | 9 | ··/˘·/˘/˘ |
| Turned the door on its golden hinge. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Now I sing in the court once more, | 8 | ········ |
| I sing and I weep all day, | 7 | ······· |
| As I kneel by the close-shut door, | 8 | ········ |
| For I know what the echoes say. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Yet I sing not the song of old, | 8 | ········ |
| Ere I knew whence the echo came, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Ere I opened the door of gold; | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| But the music sounds just the same. | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Then take warning, and turn away | 8 | ··/˘··˘/ |
| Do not ask of that hidden thing, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Do not guess what the echoes say, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or the meaning of what I sing. | 8 | ··/˘···· |
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