III. 157
Child of Nature and simple,Thus to sing was wont ISweet the dream of freedom--With tenderness my breast it filled.
But thee I see, thee I hear--And now? Weak become I.With freedom lost foreverWith all my heart I bondage prize.
I thought forgotten has the heartOf suffering the easy art;Not again can be, said INot again what once has been.
Of Love the sorrows gone were,Now calm were my airy dreams....But behold! again they trembleBeauty's mighty power before!...
The moment wondrous I rememberThou before me didst appearLike a flashing apparition,Like a spirit of beauty pure.
'Mid sorrows of hopeless grief,'Mid tumults of noiseful bustle,Rang long to me thy tender voice,Came dreams to me of thy lovely features.
Went by the years. The storm's rebellious rushThe former dreams had scatteredAnd I forgot thy tender voice,I forgot thy heavenly features.
In the desert, in prison's darkness,Quietly my days were dragging;No reverence, nor inspiration,Nor tears, nor life, nor love.
But at last awakes my soul:And again didst thou appear:Like a flashing apparition,Like a spirit of beauty pure.
And enraptured beats my heart,And risen are for it againBoth reverence, and inspirationAnd life, and tears, and love.
Words in this poem
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
- didst
- , the 2d pers. sing. imp. of Do.
- noiseful a.
- Loud; clamorous.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- rebellious a.
- Engaged in rebellion; disposed to rebel of the nature of rebels or of rebellion; resisting government or lawful authority by force.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
III. 157 is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems With Introduction and Notes, Project Gutenberg ebook #54991; 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, III. 157, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54991, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pushkin-poems/iii-157.html, id L25546.
Form and metre
III. 157 is 40 lines in 10 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%).
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.
- 3 AA-- heartA · artA · i · been
- 10 -AA- heart · againA · inspirationA · love
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Child of Nature and simple, | 7 | ··/˘·/˘ |
| Thus to sing was wont I | 6 | ······ |
| Sweet the dream of freedom-- | 6 | ····/˘ |
| With tenderness my breast it filled. | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| But thee I see, thee I hear-- | 7 | ······· |
| And now? Weak become I. | 6 | ···˘/· |
| With freedom lost forever | 7 | ·/˘·˘/˘ |
| With all my heart I bondage prize. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I thought forgotten has the heart | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| Of suffering the easy art; | 8 | ·/˘˘·/˘· |
| Not again can be, said I | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| Not again what once has been. | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| Of Love the sorrows gone were, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Now calm were my airy dreams.... | 7 | ····/˘· |
| But behold! again they tremble | 8 | ·˘/˘/·/˘ |
| Beauty's mighty power before!... | 8 | /˘/˘/˘·· |
| The moment wondrous I remember | 9 | ·/˘/˘·˘/˘ |
| Thou before me didst appear | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Like a flashing apparition, | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| Like a spirit of beauty pure. | 8 | ··/˘·/˘· |
| 'Mid sorrows of hopeless grief, | 7 | ·/˘·/˘· |
| 'Mid tumults of noiseful bustle, | 8 | ·/˘·/˘/˘ |
| Rang long to me thy tender voice, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Came dreams to me of thy lovely features. | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| Went by the years. The storm's rebellious rush | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| The former dreams had scattered | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| And I forgot thy tender voice, | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| I forgot thy heavenly features. | 9 | ·˘/·/˘˘/˘ |
| In the desert, in prison's darkness, | 9 | ··˘/·/˘/˘ |
| Quietly my days were dragging; | 8 | /˘˘···/˘ |
| No reverence, nor inspiration, | 9 | ·/˘˘··˘/˘ |
| Nor tears, nor life, nor love. | 6 | ······ |
| But at last awakes my soul: | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| And again didst thou appear: | 7 | ·˘/··˘/ |
| Like a flashing apparition, | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| Like a spirit of beauty pure. | 8 | ··/˘·/˘· |
| And enraptured beats my heart, | 8 | ·˘/˘˘··· |
| And risen are for it again | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Both reverence, and inspiration | 9 | ·/˘˘··˘/˘ |
| And life, and tears, and love. | 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.