The Lament of the Roast Swan
Time was my wings were my delight,Time was I made a lovely sight;'Twas when I was a swan snow-white.Woe's me! I vow,Black am I now,Burned up, back, beak, and brow!
The baster turns me on the spit,The fire I've felt the force of it,The carver carves me bit by bit.I'd rather in the water floatUnder the bare heavens like a boat,Than have this pepper down my throat.
Whiter I was than wool or snow,Fairer than any bird I know;Now am I blacker than a crow.
Now in the gravy-dish I lie,I cannot swim, I cannot fly,Nothing but gnashing teeth I spy.Woe's me! I vow, &c.
Words in this poem
- carver n.
- One who carves; one who shapes or fashions by carving, or as by carving; esp. one who carves decorative forms, architectural adornments, etc.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Lament of the Roast Swan is in the public domain. This text is taken from Wine, Women, and Song Mediaeval Latin Students' songs; Now first translated into English verse, Project Gutenberg ebook #18044; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Addington Symonds, The Lament of the Roast Swan, in Wine, Women and Song (1884), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #18044, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/symonds-wine-women/the-lament-of-the-roast-swan.html, id L11862.
Form and metre
The Lament of the Roast Swan is 19 lines in 4 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is AAABBB, complete in 2 of its 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.4 syllables. 5% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 AAABBB delightA · sightA · whiteA · vowB · nowB · browB
- 2 AAABBB spitA · itA · bitA · floatB · boatB · throatB
- 3 AAA snowA · knowA · crowA
- 4 AAA- lieA · flyA · spyA · —
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Time was my wings were my delight, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Time was I made a lovely sight; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| 'Twas when I was a swan snow-white. | 8 | ········ |
| Woe's me! I vow, | 4 | ···· |
| Black am I now, | 4 | ···· |
| Burned up, back, beak, and brow! | 7 | ·˘····· |
| The baster turns me on the spit, | 8 | ········ |
| The fire I've felt the force of it, | 8 | ·/······ |
| The carver carves me bit by bit. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| I'd rather in the water float | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Under the bare heavens like a boat, | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| Than have this pepper down my throat. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Whiter I was than wool or snow, | 8 | /˘······ |
| Fairer than any bird I know; | 8 | /˘·/˘··· |
| Now am I blacker than a crow. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Now in the gravy-dish I lie, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| I cannot swim, I cannot fly, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Nothing but gnashing teeth I spy. | 8 | /˘·/˘··· |
| Woe's me! I vow, &c. | 5 | ····· |
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.