III. 38
Slowly my days are draggingAnd in my faded heart each moment doublesAll the sorrows of hopeless loveAnd heavy craze upsets me.But I am silent. Heard not is my murmur.Tears I shed ... they are my consolation;My soul in sorrow steepedFinds enjoyment bitter in them.O flee, life's dream, thee not regret I!In darkness vanish, empty vision!Dear to me is of love my pain,Let me die, but let me die still loving!
Thee I loved; not yet love perhaps isIn my heart entirely quenchedBut trouble let it thee no more;Thee to grieve with nought I wish.Silent, hopeless thee I loved,By fear tormented, now by jealousy;So sincere my love, so tender,May God the like thee grant from another.
About this text
III. 38 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. 38, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54991, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pushkin-poems/iii-38.html, id L25545.
Form and metre
III. 38 is 20 lines in 2 stanzas. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 83%).
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 ---------AA- dragging · doubles · love · me · murmur · consolation · steeped · them · i · visionA · painA · loving
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Slowly my days are dragging | 7 | /˘···/˘ |
| And in my faded heart each moment doubles | 11 | ···/˘··/˘/˘ |
| All the sorrows of hopeless love | 8 | ··/˘·/˘· |
| And heavy craze upsets me. | 7 | ·/˘·˘/· |
| But I am silent. Heard not is my murmur. | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| Tears I shed ... they are my consolation; | 10 | ·······˘/˘ |
| My soul in sorrow steeped | 7 | ···/˘·˘ |
| Finds enjoyment bitter in them. | 8 | ·˘/˘/˘·· |
| O flee, life's dream, thee not regret I! | 9 | ······˘/· |
| In darkness vanish, empty vision! | 9 | ·/˘/˘/˘/˘ |
| Dear to me is of love my pain, | 8 | ········ |
| Let me die, but let me die still loving! | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Thee I loved; not yet love perhaps is | 9 | ······˘/· |
| In my heart entirely quenched | 8 | ···˘/˘˘· |
| But trouble let it thee no more; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Thee to grieve with nought I wish. | 7 | ······· |
| Silent, hopeless thee I loved, | 8 | /˘/˘···˘ |
| By fear tormented, now by jealousy; | 9 | ··/·˘··/˘ |
| So sincere my love, so tender, | 8 | ·˘/···/˘ |
| May God the like thee grant from another. | 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.