The Secret
She sought to breathe one word, but vainly;Too many listeners were nigh;And yet my timid glance read plainlyThe language of her speaking eye.Thy silent glades my footstep presses,Thou fair and leaf-embosomed grove!Conceal within thy green recessesFrom mortal eye our sacred love!
Afar with strange discordant noises,The busy day is echoing;And 'mid the hollow hum of voices,I hear the heavy hammer ring.'Tis thus that man, with toil ne'er endingExtorts from heaven his daily bread;Yet oft unseen the Gods are sendingThe gifts of fortune on his head!
Oh, let mankind discover neverHow true love fills with bliss our heartsThey would but crush our joy forever,For joy to them no glow imparts.Thou ne'er wilt from the world obtain it--'Tis never captured save as prey;Thou needs must strain each nerve to gain it,E'er envy dark asserts her sway.
The hours of night and stillness loving,It comes upon us silently--Away with hasty footstep movingSoon as it sees a treacherous eye.Thou gentle stream, soft circlets weaving,A watery barrier cast around,And, with thy waves in anger heaving,Guard from each foe this holy ground!
Words in this poem
- afar adv.
- At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
- unseen a.
- Not seen or discovered.
- discover v. i.
- To discover or show one's self.
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
- stillness n.
- The quality or state of being still; quietness; silence; calmness; inactivity.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Secret is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Schiller — Third period, Project Gutenberg ebook #6796; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Friedrich Schiller, The Secret, in The Poems of Schiller: Third Period (1805), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6796, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/schiller-third-period/the-secret.html, id L21816.
Form and metre
The Secret is 32 lines in 4 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
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.
- 1 ABAB---- vainlyA · nighB · plainlyA · eyeB · presses · grove · recesses · love
- 2 -A-ABCBC noises · echoingA · voices · ringA · endingB · breadC · sendingB · headC
- 3 ABABCDCD neverA · heartsB · foreverA · impartsB · itC · preyD · itC · swayD
- 4 ----ABAB loving · silently · moving · eye · weavingA · aroundB · heavingA · groundB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| She sought to breathe one word, but vainly; | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Too many listeners were nigh; | 8 | ·/˘/˘˘·· |
| And yet my timid glance read plainly | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| The language of her speaking eye. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Thy silent glades my footstep presses, | 9 | ·/˘··/·/˘ |
| Thou fair and leaf-embosomed grove! | 8 | ········ |
| Conceal within thy green recesses | 9 | ˘/····/˘˘ |
| From mortal eye our sacred love! | 8 | ·/˘·//˘· |
| Afar with strange discordant noises, | 9 | ˘/··˘/˘/˘ |
| The busy day is echoing; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| And 'mid the hollow hum of voices, | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| I hear the heavy hammer ring. | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| 'Tis thus that man, with toil ne'er ending | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Extorts from heaven his daily bread; | 8 | ˘/·/·/˘· |
| Yet oft unseen the Gods are sending | 9 | ··˘/···/˘ |
| The gifts of fortune on his head! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Oh, let mankind discover never | 9 | ··//˘/˘/˘ |
| How true love fills with bliss our hearts | 8 | ······/· |
| They would but crush our joy forever, | 9 | ····/·˘/˘ |
| For joy to them no glow imparts. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Thou ne'er wilt from the world obtain it-- | 9 | ······˘/· |
| 'Tis never captured save as prey; | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Thou needs must strain each nerve to gain it, | 9 | ········· |
| E'er envy dark asserts her sway. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| The hours of night and stillness loving, | 9 | ·/···/˘/˘ |
| It comes upon us silently-- | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Away with hasty footstep moving | 9 | ˘/·/˘/·/˘ |
| Soon as it sees a treacherous eye. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Thou gentle stream, soft circlets weaving, | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| A watery barrier cast around, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| And, with thy waves in anger heaving, | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| Guard from each foe this holy ground! | 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.