‘So careful of the type?’ but no
‘So careful of the type?’ but no.From scarped cliff and quarried stoneShe cries ‘a thousand types are gone:I care for nothing, all shall go.
Thou makest thine appeal to me:I bring to life, I bring to death:The spirit does but mean the breath:I know no more.’ And he, shall he,
Man, her last work, who seem’d so fair,Such splendid purpose in his eyes,Who roll’d the psalm to wintry skies,Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer,
Who trusted God was love indeedAnd love Creation’s final law--Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and clawWith ravine, shriek’d against his creed--
Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills,Who battled for the True, the Just,Be blown about the desert dust,Or seal’d within the iron hills?
No more? A monster then, a dream,A discord. Dragons of the prime,That tare each other in their slime,Were mellow music match’d with him.
O life as futile, then, as frail!O for thy voice to soothe and bless!What hope of answer, or redress?Behind the veil, behind the veil.
Words in this poem
- quarried a.
- Provided with prey.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- wintry a.
- Suitable to winter; resembling winter, or what belongs to winter; brumal; hyemal; cold; stormy; wintery. [AS. wintrig.]
- fruitless a.
- Lacking, or not bearing, fruit; barren; destitute of offspring; as, a fruitless tree or shrub; a fruitless marriage.
- countless a.
- Incapable of being counted; not ascertainable; innumerable.
- futile a.
- Talkative; loquacious; tattling. [L. futilis that easily pours out, that easily lets loose, vain, worthless, from the root of fundere to pour out: cf. F. futile. See Fuse, v. t.]
- soothe v. t.
- To assent to as true. Testament of Love. [Originally, to assent to as true; OE. so to verify, AS. ges to prove the truth of, to bear witness. See Sooth, a.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
‘So careful of the type?’ but no is in the public domain. This text is taken from In memoriam, Project Gutenberg ebook #70950; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Alfred Tennyson, ‘So careful of the type?’ but no, in In Memoriam A.H.H. (1850), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #70950, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/tennyson-in-memoriam/section-55.html, id L18415.
Form and metre
‘So careful of the type?’ but no is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABBA. The metre is iambic tetrameter, 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 8.0 syllables. 11% 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 ABBA noA · stoneB · goneB · goA
- 2 ABBA meA · deathB · breathB · heA
- 3 ABBA fairA · eyesB · skiesB · prayerA
- 4 ABBA indeedA · lawB · clawB · creedA
- 5 ABBA illsA · justB · dustB · hillsA
- 6 ABBA dreamA · primeB · slimeB · himA
- 7 ABBA frailA · blessB · redressB · veilA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| ‘So careful of the type?’ but no. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| From scarped cliff and quarried stone | 8 | ··˘··/˘· |
| She cries ‘a thousand types are gone: | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| I care for nothing, all shall go. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Thou makest thine appeal to me: | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| I bring to life, I bring to death: | 8 | ········ |
| The spirit does but mean the breath: | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| I know no more.’ And he, shall he, | 8 | ········ |
| Man, her last work, who seem’d so fair, | 8 | ········ |
| Such splendid purpose in his eyes, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Who roll’d the psalm to wintry skies, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Who trusted God was love indeed | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| And love Creation’s final law-- | 8 | ··˘/˘/˘· |
| Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and claw | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| With ravine, shriek’d against his creed-- | 8 | ·˘/····· |
| Who loved, who suffer’d countless ills, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Who battled for the True, the Just, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Be blown about the desert dust, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or seal’d within the iron hills? | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| No more? A monster then, a dream, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| A discord. Dragons of the prime, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| That tare each other in their slime, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Were mellow music match’d with him. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| O life as futile, then, as frail! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| O for thy voice to soothe and bless! | 8 | ········ |
| What hope of answer, or redress? | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Behind the veil, behind the veil. | 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.