August Moonrise
The sun was gone, and the moon was comingOver the blue Connecticut hills;The west was rosy, the east was flushed,And over my head the swallows rushedThis way and that, with changeful wills.I heard them twitter and watched them dartNow together and now apartLike dark petals blown from a tree;The maples stamped against the westWere black and stately and full of rest,And the hazy orange moon grew upAnd slowly changed to yellow goldWhile the hills were darkened, fold on foldTo a deeper blue than a flower could hold.Down the hill I went, and thenI forgot the ways of men,For night-scents, heady, and damp and coolWakened ecstasy in meOn the brink of a shining pool.
O Beauty, out of many a cupYou have made me drunk and wildEver since I was a child,But when have I been sure as nowThat no bitterness can bendAnd no sorrow wholly bowOne who loves you to the end?And though I must give my breathAnd my laughter all to death,And my eyes through which joy came,And my heart, a wavering flame;If all must leave me and go backAlong a blind and fearful trackSo that you can make anew,Fusing with intenser fire,Something nearer your desire;If my soul must go aloneThrough a cold infinity,Or even if it vanish, too,Beauty, I have worshipped you.
Let this single hour atoneFor the theft of all of me.
Words in this poem
- rushed a.
- Abounding or covered with rushes.
- changeful a.
- Full of change; mutable; inconstant; fickle; uncertain.
- twitter n.
- One who twits, or reproaches; an upbraider. [From Twit.]
- hazy a.
- Thick with haze; somewhat obscured with haze; not clear or transparent. [From Haze, n.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- heady a.
- Willful; rash; precipitate; hurried on by will or passion; ungovernable. [From Head.]
- brink n.
- The edge, margin, or border of a steep place, as of a precipice; a bank or edge, as of a river or pit; a verge; a border; as, the brink of a chasm. Also Fig. [Dan. brink edge, verge; akin to Sw. brink declivity, hill, Icel. brekka; cf. LG. brink a grassy hill, W. bryn hill, bryncyn hillock.]
- atone v. t.
- To set at one; to reduce to concord; to reconcile, as parties at variance; to appease.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
August Moonrise is in the public domain. This text is taken from Flame and Shadow, Project Gutenberg ebook #591; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Sara Teasdale, August Moonrise, in Flame and Shadow (1920), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #591, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/teasdale-flame-shadow/august-moonrise.html, id L16961.
Form and metre
August Moonrise is 41 lines in 3 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 83%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.9 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 51% 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 -ABBACCDEE-FFFGGHDH coming · hillsA · flushedB · rushedB · willsA · dartC · apartC · treeD · westE · restE · up · goldF · foldF · holdF · thenG · menG · coolH · meD · poolH
- 2 -AABCBCDDEEFFGHH--GG cup · wildA · childA · nowB · bendC · bowB · endC · breathD · deathD · cameE · flameE · backF · trackF · anewG · fireH · desireH · alone · infinity · tooG · youG
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 |
|---|---|---|
| The sun was gone, and the moon was coming | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Over the blue Connecticut hills; | 8 | ···˘/˘˘· |
| The west was rosy, the east was flushed, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| And over my head the swallows rushed | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| This way and that, with changeful wills. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I heard them twitter and watched them dart | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Now together and now apart | 8 | ·˘/˘··˘/ |
| Like dark petals blown from a tree; | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| The maples stamped against the west | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Were black and stately and full of rest, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| And the hazy orange moon grew up | 9 | ··/˘/˘··· |
| And slowly changed to yellow gold | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| While the hills were darkened, fold on fold | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| To a deeper blue than a flower could hold. | 10 | ··/˘···/·· |
| Down the hill I went, and then | 7 | ······· |
| I forgot the ways of men, | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| For night-scents, heady, and damp and cool | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Wakened ecstasy in me | 8 | /˘˘/˘˘·· |
| On the brink of a shining pool. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| O Beauty, out of many a cup | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| You have made me drunk and wild | 7 | ······· |
| Ever since I was a child, | 7 | /˘····· |
| But when have I been sure as now | 8 | ········ |
| That no bitterness can bend | 7 | ··/˘˘·· |
| And no sorrow wholly bow | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| One who loves you to the end? | 7 | ······· |
| And though I must give my breath | 7 | ······· |
| And my laughter all to death, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| And my eyes through which joy came, | 7 | ······· |
| And my heart, a wavering flame; | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| If all must leave me and go back | 8 | ········ |
| Along a blind and fearful track | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| So that you can make anew, | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Fusing with intenser fire, | 8 | /˘····/˘ |
| Something nearer your desire; | 8 | /˘/˘·˘/˘ |
| If my soul must go alone | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Through a cold infinity, | 7 | ···˘/˘˘ |
| Or even if it vanish, too, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Beauty, I have worshipped you. | 8 | /˘··/˘˘· |
| Let this single hour atone | 8 | ··/˘/˘˘/ |
| For the theft of all of me. | 7 | ······· |
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.