A Ballad of Whitechapel
God’s mercy shines;And our full hearts must make record of this,For grief that burst from out its dark confinesInto strange sunlit bliss.
I stood where glowedThe merry glare of golden whirring lightsAbove the monstrous mass that seethed and flowedThrough one of London’s nights.
I watched the gleamsOf jagged warm lights on shrunk faces pale:I heard mad laughter as one hears in dreamsOr Hell’s harsh lurid tale.
The traffic rolled,A gliding chaos populous of din,A steaming wail at doom the Lord had scrawledFor perilous loads of sin.
And my soul thought:“What fearful land have my steps wandered to?God’s love is everywhere, but here is naughtSave love His anger slew.”
And as I stoodLost in promiscuous bewilderment,Which to my mazèd soul was wonder-food,A girl in garments rent
Peered ’neath lids shamedAnd spoke to me and murmured to my blood.My soul stopped dead, and all my horror flamedAt her forgot of God.
Her hungered eyes,Craving and yet so sadly spiritual,Shone like the unsmirched corner of a jewelWhere else foul blemish lies.
I walked with herBecause my heart thought, “Here the soul is clean,The fragrance of the frankincense and myrrhIs lost in odours mean.”
She told me howThe shadow of black death had newly comeAnd touched her father, mother, even nowGrim-hovering in her home,
Where fevered layHer wasting brother in a cold, bleak room,Which theirs would be no longer than a day,And then—the streets and doom.
Lord! Lord! Dear Lord!I knew that life was bitter, but my soulRecoiled, as anguish-smitten by sharp sword,Grieving such body’s dole.
Then grief gave placeTo a strange pulsing rapture as she spoke;For I could catch the glimpses of God’s grace,And a desire awoke
To take this trustAnd warm and gladden it with love’s new fires,Burning the past to ashes and to dustThrough purified desires.
We walked our way,One way hewn for us from the birth of Time;For we had wandered into Love’s strange climeThrough ways sin waits to slay.
Love’s euphony,In Love’s own temple that is our glad hearts,Makes now long music wild deliciously;Now Grief hath used his darts.
Love infinite,Chastened by sorrow, hallowed by pure flame—Not all the surging world can compass it.Love—Love—O tremulous name!
God’s mercy shines;And my full heart hath made record of this,Of grief that burst from out its dark confinesInto strange sunlit bliss.
Words in this poem
- sunlit a.
- Lighted by the sun.
- glare v. i.
- To shine with a bright, dazzling light. [OE. glaren, gloren; cf. AS. glær amber, LG. glaren to glow or burn like coals, D. gloren to glimmer; prob. akin to E. glass.]
- lurid a.
- Pale yellow; ghastly pale; wan; gloomy; dismal. [L. luridus.]
- chaos n.
- An empty, immeasurable space; a yawning chasm. [L. chaos chaos (in senses 1 & 2), Gr. Chasm.]
- populous a.
- Abounding in people; full of inhabitants; containing many inhabitants in proportion to the extent of the country. [L. populosus, fr. populus people: cf. F. populeux.]
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- hungered a.
- Hungry; pinched for food.
- sadly adv.
- Wearily; heavily; firmly.
- gladden v. t.
- To make glad; to cheer; to please; to gratify; to rejoice; to exhilarate. [See Glad, v. t.]
- clime n.
- A climate; a tract or region of the earth. See Climate. [L. clima. See Climate.]
- euphony n.
- A pleasing or sweet sound; an easy, smooth enunciation of sounds; a pronunciation of letters and syllables which is pleasing to the ear. [L. euphonia, Gr. euphonie.]
- deliciously adv.
- Delightfully; as, to feed deliciously; to be deliciously entertained.
- chastened a.
- Corrected; disciplined; refined; purified; toned down. Sir. W.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Ballad of Whitechapel is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by Isaac Rosenberg, Project Gutenberg ebook #66889; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Isaac Rosenberg, A Ballad of Whitechapel, in Poems (1922), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66889, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/rosenberg-poems/a-ballad-of-whitechapel.html, id L02523.
Form and metre
A Ballad of Whitechapel is 72 lines in 18 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 12 of its 18 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.5 syllables. 9 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 36% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
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 shinesA · thisB · confinesA · blissB
- 2 ABAB glowedA · lightsB · flowedA · nightsB
- 3 ABAB gleamsA · paleB · dreamsA · taleB
- 4 -A-A rolled · dinA · scrawled · sinA
- 5 ABAB thoughtA · toB · naughtA · slewB
- 6 -A-A stood · bewildermentA · food · rentA
- 7 A-A- shamedA · blood · flamedA · god
- 8 A--A eyesA · spiritual · jewel · liesA
- 9 ABAB herA · cleanB · myrrhA · meanB
- 10 ABAB howA · comeB · nowA · homeB
- 11 ABAB layA · roomB · dayA · doomB
- 12 ABAB lordA · soulB · swordA · doleB
- 13 ABAB placeA · spokeB · graceA · awokeB
- 14 ABAB trustA · firesB · dustA · desiresB
- 15 ABBA wayA · timeB · climeB · slayA
- 16 -A-A euphony · heartsA · deliciously · dartsA
- 17 ABAB infiniteA · flameB · itA · nameB
- 18 ABAB shinesA · thisB · confinesA · blissB
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| God’s mercy shines; | 4 | ·/˘· |
| And our full hearts must make record of this, | 10 | ·/····˘/·· |
| For grief that burst from out its dark confines | 10 | ········/· |
| Into strange sunlit bliss. | 6 | ···/·· |
| I stood where glowed | 5 | ····˘ |
| The merry glare of golden whirring lights | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Above the monstrous mass that seethed and flowed | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Through one of London’s nights. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| I watched the gleams | 5 | ··˘·· |
| Of jagged warm lights on shrunk faces pale: | 9 | ······/˘· |
| I heard mad laughter as one hears in dreams | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Or Hell’s harsh lurid tale. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| The traffic rolled, | 5 | ·/˘·˘ |
| A gliding chaos populous of din, | 9 | ·/˘/˘/˘·· |
| A steaming wail at doom the Lord had scrawled | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| For perilous loads of sin. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And my soul thought: | 4 | ···· |
| “What fearful land have my steps wandered to? | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| God’s love is everywhere, but here is naught | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Save love His anger slew.” | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And as I stood | 4 | ···· |
| Lost in promiscuous bewilderment, | 7 | ··/˘˘/˘ |
| Which to my mazèd soul was wonder-food, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| A girl in garments rent | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Peered ’neath lids shamed | 6 | ·˘···˘ |
| And spoke to me and murmured to my blood. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| My soul stopped dead, and all my horror flamed | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| At her forgot of God. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| Her hungered eyes, | 5 | ·/˘˘· |
| Craving and yet so sadly spiritual, | 9 | /˘···/˘/˘ |
| Shone like the unsmirched corner of a jewel | 10 | ·····/˘··/ |
| Where else foul blemish lies. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| I walked with her | 5 | ··˘·· |
| Because my heart thought, “Here the soul is clean, | 10 | ·········· |
| The fragrance of the frankincense and myrrh | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Is lost in odours mean.” | 6 | ···/˘· |
| She told me how | 4 | ···· |
| The shadow of black death had newly come | 10 | ·/·····/˘· |
| And touched her father, mother, even now | 9 | ···/˘/˘/· |
| Grim-hovering in her home, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Where fevered lay | 5 | ·/˘˘· |
| Her wasting brother in a cold, bleak room, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Which theirs would be no longer than a day, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And then—the streets and doom. | 6 | ······ |
| Lord! Lord! Dear Lord! | 4 | ···· |
| I knew that life was bitter, but my soul | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Recoiled, as anguish-smitten by sharp sword, | 10 | ˘/·/˘/˘··· |
| Grieving such body’s dole. | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| Then grief gave place | 4 | ···· |
| To a strange pulsing rapture as she spoke; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| For I could catch the glimpses of God’s grace, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And a desire awoke | 6 | ··˘/˘/ |
| To take this trust | 4 | ···· |
| And warm and gladden it with love’s new fires, | 10 | ···/˘····/ |
| Burning the past to ashes and to dust | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| Through purified desires. | 7 | ·/˘·˘/˘ |
| We walked our way, | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| One way hewn for us from the birth of Time; | 10 | ·········· |
| For we had wandered into Love’s strange clime | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Through ways sin waits to slay. | 6 | ······ |
| Love’s euphony, | 4 | ·/˘˘ |
| In Love’s own temple that is our glad hearts, | 10 | ···/˘··/·· |
| Makes now long music wild deliciously; | 9 | ···/˘·˘/˘ |
| Now Grief hath used his darts. | 6 | ······ |
| Love infinite, | 4 | ·/˘˘ |
| Chastened by sorrow, hallowed by pure flame— | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| Not all the surging world can compass it. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Love—Love—O tremulous name! | 6 | ···/˘· |
| God’s mercy shines; | 4 | ·/˘· |
| And my full heart hath made record of this, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Of grief that burst from out its dark confines | 10 | ········/· |
| Into strange sunlit bliss. | 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.