Spring

Henry Timrod (1828–1867) · 1860–1867

iambic pentameter · AABB · 68 lines · from Poems

Spring, with that nameless pathos in the airWhich dwells with all things fair,Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain,Is with us once again.

Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burnsIts fragrant lamps, and turnsInto a royal court with green festoonsThe banks of dark lagoons.

In the deep heart of every forest treeThe blood is all aglee,And there's a look about the leafless bowersAs if they dreamed of flowers.

Yet still on every side we trace the handOf Winter in the land,Save where the maple reddens on the lawn,Flushed by the season's dawn;

Or where, like those strange semblances we findThat age to childhood bind,The elm puts on, as if in Nature's scorn,The brown of Autumn corn.

As yet the turf is dark, although you knowThat, not a span below,A thousand germs are groping through the gloom,And soon will burst their tomb.

Already, here and there, on frailest stemsAppear some azure gems,Small as might deck, upon a gala day,The forehead of a fay.

In gardens you may note amid the dearthThe crocus breaking earth;And near the snowdrop's tender white and green,The violet in its screen.

But many gleams and shadows need must passAlong the budding grass,And weeks go by, before the enamored SouthShall kiss the rose's mouth.

Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unbornIn the sweet airs of morn;One almost looks to see the very streetGrow purple at his feet.

At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by,And brings, you know not why,A feeling as when eager crowds awaitBefore a palace gate

Some wondrous pageant; and you scarce would start,If from a beech's heart,A blue-eyed Dryad, stepping forth, should say,"Behold me! I am May!"

Ah! who would couple thoughts of war and crimeWith such a blessëd time!Who in the west wind's aromatic breathCould hear the call of Death!

Yet not more surely shall the Spring awakeThe voice of wood and brake,Than she shall rouse, for all her tranquil charms,A million men to arms.

There shall be deeper hues upon her plainsThan all her sunlit rains,And every gladdening influence around,Can summon from the ground.

Oh! standing on this desecrated mould,Methinks that I behold,Lifting her bloody daisies up to God,Spring kneeling on the sod,

And calling, with the voice of all her rills,Upon the ancient hillsTo fall and crush the tyrants and the slavesWho turn her meads to graves.

Words in this poem 16

nameless a.: Without a name; not having been given a name; as, a nameless star.
childhood n.: The state of being a child; the time in which persons are children; the condition or time from infancy to puberty. [AS. cildhad; cild child + -had. See Child, and hood.]
gala n.: Pomp, show, or festivity. Macaulay. Gala day, a day of mirth and festivity; a holiday. [F. gala show, pomp, fr. It. gala finery, gala; of German origin. See Gallant.]
amid prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
dearth n.: Scarcity which renders dear; want; lack; specifically, lack of food on account of failure of crops; famine. [OE. derthe, fr. dere. See Dear.]
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,]
unborn a.: Not born; no yet brought into life; being still to appear; future.
morn n.: The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
await v. t.: To watch for; to look out for. [OF. awaitier, agaitier; (L. ad) + waitier, gaitier to watch, F. guetter. See Wait.]
wondrous adv.: In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
pageant n.: A theatrical exhibition; a spectacle. [OE. pagent, pagen, originally, a movable scaffold or stage, hence, what was exhibited on it, fr. LL. pagina, akin to pangere to fasten; cf. L. pagina page, leaf]
scarce a.: Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
dryad n.: A wood nymph; a nymph whose life was bound up with that of her tree. [L. dryas, pl. dryades, Gr. Tree.]
sunlit a.: Lighted by the sun.
mould n.: Crumbling, soft, friable earth; esp., earth containing the remains or constituents of organic matter, and suited to the growth of plants; soil. [OE. molde, AS. molde; akin to D. mul, G. mull, mulm, OHG. molt, molta, Icel. mold, Dan. muld, Sw. mull, Goth. mulda, and E. meal flour. See Meal, and cf. Mole a]
methinks v.: It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

Spring is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems of Henry Timrod; with Memoir, Project Gutenberg ebook #845; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Henry Timrod, Spring, in Poems (1860–1867), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #845, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/timrod-poems/spring.html, id L10444.

Form and metre

Spring is 68 lines in 17 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes AABB. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 34% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

See other poems in iambic pentameter.

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 AABB air^A · fair^A · rain^B · again^B
2 AABB burns^A · turns^A · festoons^B · lagoons^B
3 AABB tree^A · aglee^A · bowers^B · flowers^B
4 AABB hand^A · land^A · lawn^B · dawn^B
5 AABB find^A · bind^A · scorn^B · corn^B
6 AABB know^A · below^A · gloom^B · tomb^B
7 AABB stems^A · gems^A · day^B · fay^B
8 AABB dearth^A · earth^A · green^B · screen^B
9 AABB pass^A · grass^A · south^B · mouth^B
10 AABB unborn^A · morn^A · street^B · feet^B
11 AABB by^A · why^A · await^B · gate^B
12 AABB start^A · heart^A · say^B · may^B
13 AABB crime^A · time^A · breath^B · death^B
14 AABB awake^A · brake^A · charms^B · arms^B
15 AABB plains^A · rains^A · around^B · ground^B
16 AABB mould^A · behold^A · god^B · sod^B
17 AABB rills^A · hills^A · slaves^B · graves^B

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 pentameter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
Spring, with that nameless pathos in the air	10	···/˘/˘···
Which dwells with all things fair,	6	······
Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Is with us once again.	6	····˘/
Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns	10	···/˘··/˘·
Its fragrant lamps, and turns	6	·/˘···
Into a royal court with green festoons	10	···/˘····/
The banks of dark lagoons.	6	····˘/
In the deep heart of every forest tree	10	·····/˘/˘·
The blood is all aglee,	6	······
And there's a look about the leafless bowers	11	·······/˘/˘
As if they dreamed of flowers.	7	·····/˘
Yet still on every side we trace the hand	10	···/˘·····
Of Winter in the land,	6	·/˘···
Save where the maple reddens on the lawn,	10	···/˘/˘···
Flushed by the season's dawn;	6	···/˘·
Or where, like those strange semblances we find	10	·····/˘˘··
That age to childhood bind,	6	···/··
The elm puts on, as if in Nature's scorn,	10	·······/˘·
The brown of Autumn corn.	6	···/˘·
As yet the turf is dark, although you know	10	··········
That, not a span below,	6	······
A thousand germs are groping through the gloom,	10	·/˘··/˘···
And soon will burst their tomb.	6	······
Already, here and there, on frailest stems	10	˘/˘····/˘·
Appear some azure gems,	6	˘/·/˘·
Small as might deck, upon a gala day,	10	·······/˘·
The forehead of a fay.	6	·/˘···
In gardens you may note amid the dearth	10	·/˘···˘/··
The crocus breaking earth;	6	·/˘/˘·
And near the snowdrop's tender white and green,	10	·····/˘···
The violet in its screen.	7	·/˘˘···
But many gleams and shadows need must pass	10	·/˘··/····
Along the budding grass,	6	˘/·/˘·
And weeks go by, before the enamored South	11	·······˘/˘·
Shall kiss the rose's mouth.	6	···/˘·
Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unborn	10	·····/˘·//
In the sweet airs of morn;	6	······
One almost looks to see the very street	10	·/·····/˘·
Grow purple at his feet.	6	·/˘···
At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by,	10	···/˘··/˘·
And brings, you know not why,	6	······
A feeling as when eager crowds await	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
Before a palace gate	6	···/˘·
Some wondrous pageant; and you scarce would start,	10	·/˘/˘·····
If from a beech's heart,	6	···/˘·
A blue-eyed Dryad, stepping forth, should say,	10	···/˘/˘···
"Behold me! I am May!"	6	˘/····
Ah! who would couple thoughts of war and crime	10	···/˘·····
With such a blessëd time!	5	·····
Who in the west wind's aromatic breath	10	······˘/˘·
Could hear the call of Death!	6	······
Yet not more surely shall the Spring awake	10	···/˘···˘/
The voice of wood and brake,	6	······
Than she shall rouse, for all her tranquil charms,	10	·······/˘·
A million men to arms.	6	·/˘···
There shall be deeper hues upon her plains	10	···/˘·····
Than all her sunlit rains,	6	···/··
And every gladdening influence around,	10	·/˘/˘˘/˘··
Can summon from the ground.	6	·/˘···
Oh! standing on this desecrated mould,	10	·/˘··˘˘/˘·
Methinks that I behold,	6	˘/··˘/
Lifting her bloody daisies up to God,	10	/˘·/˘/˘···
Spring kneeling on the sod,	6	·/˘···
And calling, with the voice of all her rills,	10	·/˘·······
Upon the ancient hills	6	···/˘·
To fall and crush the tyrants and the slaves	10	·····/˘···
Who turn her meads to graves.	6	······

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.

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