The Husband's Lament
Parted now, alas! for everFrom the object of my heart,Thus by cruel fate afflicted,Grief shall be my only part,
I, bereft of her blest presence,Shall my life in anguish spend,Joy a stranger to my bosom,Wo with every thought shall blend.
Double was my meed of pleasureWhen in it a share she bore,Of my pains, though keen and piercing,Viewing her I thought no more.
All is past! and I, unhappy,Here on earth am left alone,All my transports now are vanished,Blissful hours! how swiftly flown.
Vainly friends, with kind compassion,Me to calm my grief conjure,Vainly strive my heart to comfort,It the grave alone can cure.
Fate one hope allows me only,Which allays my bosom's pain--Death our loving hearts divided,Death our hearts can join again!
Words in this poem
- 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,]
- meed v. t.
- To reward; to repay. Waytt.
- blissful a.
- Full of, characterized by, or causing, joy and felicity; happy in the highest degree.
- flown a.
- Flushed, inflated.
- conjure v. t.
- To call on or summon by a sacred name or in solemn manner; to implore earnestly; to adjure. [F. conjurer, fr. L. conjurare to swear together, to conspire; con- + jurare to swear. See Jury.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Husband's Lament is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #8192; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Alexander Pushkin, The Husband's Lament, in The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems (1849), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8192, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pushkin-bakchesarian/by-p-pelsky.html, id L25559.
Form and metre
The Husband's Lament is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%).
See other poems in trochaic 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 -A-A ever · heartA · afflicted · partA
- 2 -A-A presence · spendA · bosom · blendA
- 3 -A-A pleasure · boreA · piercing · moreA
- 4 -A-A unhappy · aloneA · vanished · flownA
- 6 -A-A only · painA · divided · againA
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 trochaic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Parted now, alas! for ever | 8 | /˘·˘/·/˘ |
| From the object of my heart, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Thus by cruel fate afflicted, | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| Grief shall be my only part, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| I, bereft of her blest presence, | 8 | ·˘/···/˘ |
| Shall my life in anguish spend, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Joy a stranger to my bosom, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Wo with every thought shall blend. | 8 | ··/˘˘··· |
| Double was my meed of pleasure | 8 | /˘····/˘ |
| When in it a share she bore, | 7 | ······· |
| Of my pains, though keen and piercing, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Viewing her I thought no more. | 7 | /˘····· |
| All is past! and I, unhappy, | 8 | ·····˘/˘ |
| Here on earth am left alone, | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| All my transports now are vanished, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Blissful hours! how swiftly flown. | 8 | /˘/˘·/˘· |
| Vainly friends, with kind compassion, | 8 | /˘···˘/˘ |
| Me to calm my grief conjure, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Vainly strive my heart to comfort, | 8 | /˘····/˘ |
| It the grave alone can cure. | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| Fate one hope allows me only, | 8 | ···˘/·/˘ |
| Which allays my bosom's pain-- | 7 | ·˘/·/˘· |
| Death our loving hearts divided, | 9 | ·/˘/˘·˘/˘ |
| Death our hearts can join again! | 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.