Sonnet (Iv. 9)
Poet, not popular applause shalt thou prize!Of raptured praise shall pass the momentary noise;The fool's judgment hear thou shalt, and the cold mob's laughter--Calm stand, and firm be, and--sober!
Thou art king: live alone. On the free roadWalk, whither draws thee thy spirit free:Ever the fruits of beloved thoughts ripening,Never reward for noble deeds demanding.
In thyself reward seek. Thine own highest court thou art;Severest judge, thine own works canst measure.Art thou content, O fastidious craftsman?Content? Then let the mob scold,And spit upon the altar, where blazes thy fire.Thy tripod in childlike playfulness let it shake.
In the world's desert, sombre and shorelessMysteriously three springs have broken thro':Of youth the spring, a boisterous spring and rapid;It boils, it runs, it sparkles, and it murmurs.The Castalian Spring, with wave of inspirationIn the world's deserts its exiles waters;The last spring--the cold spring of forgetfulness,Of all sweetest, quench it does the heart's fire.
The longed-for moment here is. Ended is my long-yeared task.Why then sadness strange me troubles secretly?My task done, like needless hireling am I to stand,My wage in hand, to other task a stranger?Or my task regret I, of night companion silent mine,Gold Aurora's friend, the friend of my sacred household gods?
I cannot sleep, I have no light;Darkness 'bout me, and sleep is slow;The beat monotonous aloneNear me of the clock is heard.Of the Fates the womanish babble,Of sleeping night the trembling,Of life the mice-like running-about,--Why disturbing me art thou?What art thou, O tedious whisper?The reproaches, or the murmurOf the day by me misspent?What from me wilt thou have?Art thou calling or prophesying?Thee I wish to understand,Thy tongue obscure I study now.
Useless gift, accidental gift,Life, why given art thou me?Or, why by fate mysteriousTo torture art thou doomed?
Who with hostile power meOut has called from the nought?Who my soul with passion thrilled,Who my spirit with doubt has filled?...
Goal before me there is none,My heart is hollow, vain my mindAnd with sadness wearies meNoisy life's monotony.
Life,--does it disappoint thee?Grieve not, nor be angry thou!In days of sorrow gentle be:Come shall, believe, the joyful day.
In the future lives the heart:Is the present sad indeed?'T is but a moment, all will pass;Once in the past, it shall be dear.
Words in this poem 17
- shalt
- 2d per. sing. of Shall.
- 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,]
- whither adv.
- To what place; -- used interrogatively; as, whither goest thou [OE. whider. AS. hwider; akin to E. where, who; cf. Goth. hvadre whither. See Who, and cf. Hither, Thither.]
- craftsman n.
- One skilled in some trade or manual occupation; an artificer; a mechanic.
- tripod n.
- Any utensil or vessel, as a stool, table, altar, caldron, etc., supported on three feet. [L. tripus, -odis, Gr. Tri-) + Foot, and cf. Tripos, Trivet.]
- childlike a.
- Resembling a child, or that which belongs to children; becoming a child; meek; submissive; dutiful.
- sombre n.
- Gloom; obscurity; duskiness; somberness.
- shoreless a.
- Having no shore or coast; of indefinite or unlimited extent; as, a shoreless ocean. Young.
- mysteriously adv.
- In a mysterious manner.
- boisterous a.
- Rough or rude; unbending; unyielding; strong; powerful. [OE. boistous; of uncertain origin; cf. W. bwyst wild, savage, wildness, ferocity, bwystus ferocious.]
- castalian a.
- Of or pertaining to Castalia, a mythical fountain of inspiration on Mt. Parnassus sacred to the Muses. [L. Castalius]
- sadness n.
- Heaviness; firmness.
- needless a.
- Having no need.
- hireling n.
- One who is hired, or who serves for wages; esp., one whose motive and interest in serving another are wholly gainful; a mercenary. [AS. h. See Hire, n., and -ling.]
- wage v. i.
- To bind one's self; to engage.
- monotony n.
- A frequent recurrence of the same tone or sound, producing a dull uniformity; absence of variety, as in speaking or singing. [Gr. monotonie. See Monotonius.]
- angry a.
- Troublesome; vexatious; rigorous. [See Anger.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonnet (Iv. 9) 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, Sonnet (Iv. 9), in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54991, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pushkin-poems/sonnet-iv-9.html, id L25549.
Form and metre
Sonnet (Iv. 9) is 63 lines in 11 stanzas. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 75%).
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.
- 6 -------A------A light · slow · alone · heard · babble · trembling · about · thouA · whisper · murmur · misspent · have · prophesying · understand · nowA
- 8 --AA me · nought · thrilledA · filledA
- 10 A-A- theeA · thou · beA · day
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Poet, not popular applause shalt thou prize! | 10 | /˘·/˘˘/··· |
| Of raptured praise shall pass the momentary noise; | 12 | ·/˘····/˘·˘· |
| The fool's judgment hear thou shalt, and the cold mob's laughter-- | 13 | ··/˘·······/˘ |
| Calm stand, and firm be, and--sober! | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Thou art king: live alone. On the free road | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Walk, whither draws thee thy spirit free: | 8 | ·/˘···/· |
| Ever the fruits of beloved thoughts ripening, | 9 | /···˘/·/˘ |
| Never reward for noble deeds demanding. | 10 | /˘/·/˘·˘/˘ |
| In thyself reward seek. Thine own highest court thou art; | 13 | ·˘/˘/···/˘··· |
| Severest judge, thine own works canst measure. | 10 | ˘/˘·····/˘ |
| Art thou content, O fastidious craftsman? | 10 | ··/˘·˘/˘/˘ |
| Content? Then let the mob scold, | 7 | /˘····· |
| And spit upon the altar, where blazes thy fire. | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘·/ |
| Thy tripod in childlike playfulness let it shake. | 11 | ·/··/·/˘··· |
| In the world's desert, sombre and shoreless | 10 | ···/˘/˘·/˘ |
| Mysteriously three springs have broken thro': | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| Of youth the spring, a boisterous spring and rapid; | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| It boils, it runs, it sparkles, and it murmurs. | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| The Castalian Spring, with wave of inspiration | 13 | ·˘/˘˘·····˘/˘ |
| In the world's deserts its exiles waters; | 10 | ···˘/·/·/˘ |
| The last spring--the cold spring of forgetfulness, | 11 | ·······˘/˘˘ |
| Of all sweetest, quench it does the heart's fire. | 10 | ··/˘·····/ |
| The longed-for moment here is. Ended is my long-yeared task. | 14 | ···/˘··/˘····· |
| Why then sadness strange me troubles secretly? | 10 | ··/˘··/˘/˘ |
| My task done, like needless hireling am I to stand, | 12 | ····/˘/˘···· |
| My wage in hand, to other task a stranger? | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| Or my task regret I, of night companion silent mine, | 14 | ···˘/···˘/˘/˘· |
| Gold Aurora's friend, the friend of my sacred household gods? | 14 | ·˘/˘·····/˘/·· |
| I cannot sleep, I have no light; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Darkness 'bout me, and sleep is slow; | 8 | /˘······ |
| The beat monotonous alone | 8 | ··˘/˘˘˘/ |
| Near me of the clock is heard. | 7 | ······· |
| Of the Fates the womanish babble, | 9 | ····/˘˘/˘ |
| Of sleeping night the trembling, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| Of life the mice-like running-about,-- | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Why disturbing me art thou? | 7 | ·˘/˘··· |
| What art thou, O tedious whisper? | 9 | ····/˘˘/˘ |
| The reproaches, or the murmur | 8 | ·˘/˘··/˘ |
| Of the day by me misspent? | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| What from me wilt thou have? | 6 | ······ |
| Art thou calling or prophesying? | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Thee I wish to understand, | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Thy tongue obscure I study now. | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| Useless gift, accidental gift, | 8 | /˘··˘/˘· |
| Life, why given art thou me? | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Or, why by fate mysterious | 8 | ····˘/˘˘ |
| To torture art thou doomed? | 7 | ·/˘···˘ |
| Who with hostile power me | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Out has called from the nought? | 7 | ···˘··· |
| Who my soul with passion thrilled, | 8 | ····/˘·˘ |
| Who my spirit with doubt has filled?... | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Goal before me there is none, | 7 | ······· |
| My heart is hollow, vain my mind | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And with sadness wearies me | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Noisy life's monotony. | 7 | /˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Life,--does it disappoint thee? | 7 | ····˘/· |
| Grieve not, nor be angry thou! | 7 | ····/˘· |
| In days of sorrow gentle be: | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Come shall, believe, the joyful day. | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| In the future lives the heart: | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Is the present sad indeed? | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| 'T is but a moment, all will pass; | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| Once in the past, it shall be dear. | 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.