On Receiving the First News of the War
Snow is a strange white word;No ice or frostHas asked of bud or birdFor Winter’s cost.
Yet ice and frost and snowFrom earth to skyThis Summer land doth know;No man knows why.
In all men’s hearts it is:Some spirit oldHath turned with malign kissOur lives to mould.
Red fangs have torn His face,God’s blood is shed:He mourns from His lone placeHis children dead.
O ancient crimson curse!Corrode, consume;Give back this universeIts pristine bloom.
Words in this poem
- mould n.
- Crumbling, soft, friable earth; esp., earth containing the remains or constituents of organic matter, and suited to the growth of plants; soil. [OE. molde, AS. molde; akin to D. mul, G. mull, mulm, OHG. molt, molta, Icel. mold, Dan. muld, Sw. mull, Goth. mulda, and E. meal flour. See Meal, and cf. Mole a]
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
On Receiving the First News of the War 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, On Receiving the First News of the War, in Poems (1922), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66889, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/rosenberg-poems/on-receiving-the-first-news-of-the-war.html, id L02487.
Form and metre
On Receiving the First News of the War is 20 lines in 5 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 4 of its 5 stanzas. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 5.0 syllables. 40% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic trimeter.
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 wordA · frostB · birdA · costB
- 2 ABAB snowA · skyB · knowA · whyB
- 3 -A-A is · oldA · kiss · mouldA
- 4 ABAB faceA · shedB · placeA · deadB
- 5 ABAB curseA · consumeB · universeA · bloomB
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 trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Snow is a strange white word; | 6 | ······ |
| No ice or frost | 4 | ···· |
| Has asked of bud or bird | 6 | ······ |
| For Winter’s cost. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Yet ice and frost and snow | 6 | ······ |
| From earth to sky | 4 | ···· |
| This Summer land doth know; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| No man knows why. | 4 | ···· |
| In all men’s hearts it is: | 6 | ······ |
| Some spirit old | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Hath turned with malign kiss | 6 | ···˘/· |
| Our lives to mould. | 5 | /˘··· |
| Red fangs have torn His face, | 6 | ······ |
| God’s blood is shed: | 4 | ···· |
| He mourns from His lone place | 6 | ······ |
| His children dead. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| O ancient crimson curse! | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Corrode, consume; | 4 | ˘/˘/ |
| Give back this universe | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Its pristine bloom. | 4 | ·/˘· |
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.