Dirge for the Year
Orphan Hours, the Year is dead,Come and sigh, come and weep!Merry Hours, smile instead,For the Year is but asleep.See, it smiles as it is sleeping,Mocking your untimely weeping.
As an earthquake rocks a corseIn its coffin in the clay,So White Winter, that rough nurse,Rocks the death-cold Year to-day;Solemn Hours! wail aloudFor your mother in her shroud.
As the wild air stirs and swaysThe tree-swung cradle of a child,So the breath of these rude daysRocks the Year:--be calm and mild,Trembling Hours, she will ariseWith new love within her eyes.
January gray is here,Like a sexton by her grave;February bears the bier,March with grief doth howl and rave,And April weeps--but, O ye Hours!Follow with May's fairest flowers.
Words in this poem
- corse n.
- A living body or its bulk. [OF. cors, F. corps. See Corpse.]
- aloud adv.
- With a loud voice, or great noise; loudly; audibly. [Pref. a- + loud.]
- january n.
- The first month of the year, containing thirty-one days. [L. Januarius, fr. Janus an old Latin deity, the god of the sun and the year, to whom the month of January was sacred; cf. janua a door, Skr. ya to go.]
- bier n.
- A handbarrow or portable frame on which a corpse is placed or borne to the grave. [OE. bæe, beere, AS. b, b; akin to D. baar, OHG. bara, G. bahre, Icel barar, Dbaare, L. feretrum, Gr. , from the same bear to produce. See 1st Bear, and cf. Barr]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Dirge for the Year is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley — Volume 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #4798; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Percy Bysshe Shelley, Dirge for the Year, in Ode to the West Wind, and Other Poems (1816–1819), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #4798, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/shelley-later-poems/dirge-for-the-year.html, id L16435.
Form and metre
Dirge for the Year is 24 lines in 4 stanzas of 6 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABABCC. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.3 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 21% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 ABABCC deadA · weepB · insteadA · asleepB · sleepingC · weepingC
- 2 ABABCC corseA · clayB · nurseA · dayB · aloudC · shroudC
- 3 ABABCC swaysA · childB · daysA · mildB · ariseC · eyesC
- 4 ABABCC hereA · graveB · bierA · raveB · hoursC · flowersC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Orphan Hours, the Year is dead, | 7 | /˘/···· |
| Come and sigh, come and weep! | 6 | ······ |
| Merry Hours, smile instead, | 7 | /˘/˘·˘/ |
| For the Year is but asleep. | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| See, it smiles as it is sleeping, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Mocking your untimely weeping. | 8 | /˘·˘/˘/˘ |
| As an earthquake rocks a corse | 7 | ··/···· |
| In its coffin in the clay, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| So White Winter, that rough nurse, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Rocks the death-cold Year to-day; | 7 | ······· |
| Solemn Hours! wail aloud | 7 | /˘/˘·˘/ |
| For your mother in her shroud. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| As the wild air stirs and sways | 7 | ······· |
| The tree-swung cradle of a child, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| So the breath of these rude days | 7 | ······· |
| Rocks the Year:--be calm and mild, | 7 | ······· |
| Trembling Hours, she will arise | 7 | /˘/··˘/ |
| With new love within her eyes. | 7 | ······· |
| January gray is here, | 7 | /˘·˘··· |
| Like a sexton by her grave; | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| February bears the bier, | 7 | /˘·˘··· |
| March with grief doth howl and rave, | 7 | ······· |
| And April weeps--but, O ye Hours! | 8 | ·/˘····/ |
| Follow with May's fairest flowers. | 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.