A Torchbearer
GREAT cities rise and have their fall; the brassThat held their glories moulders in its turn.Hard granite rots like an uprooted weed,And ever on the palimpsest of earthImpatient Time rubs out the word he writ.But one thing makes the years its pedestal,Springs from the ashes of its pyre, and clapsA skyward wing above its epitaph--The will of man willing immortal things.
The ages are but baubles hung uponThe thread of some strong lives--and one slight wristMay lift a century above the dust;For Time,The Sisyphean load of little lives,Becomes the globe and sceptre of the great.But who are these that, linking hand in hand,Transmit across the twilight waste of yearsThe flying brightness of a kindled hour?Not always, nor alone, the lives that searchHow they may snatch a glory out of heavenOr add a height to Babel; oftener theyThat in the still fulfilment of each day'sPacific order hold great deeds in leash,That in the sober sheath of tranquil tasksHide the attempered blade of high emprise,And leap like lightning to the clap of fate.
So greatly gave he, nurturing 'gainst the callOf one rare moment all the daily storeOf joy distilled from the acquitted task,And that deliberate rashness which bespeaksThe pondered action passed into the blood;So swift to harden purpose into deedThat, with the wind of ruin in his hair,Soul sprang full-statured from the broken flesh,And at one stroke he lived the whole of life,Poured all in one libation to the truth,A brimming flood whose drops shall overflowOn deserts of the soul long beaten downBy the brute hoof of habit, till they springIn manifold upheaval to the sun.
Call here no high artificer to raiseHis wordy monument--such lives as theseMake death a dull misnomer and its pompAn empty vesture. Let resounding livesRe-echo splendidly through high-piled vaultsAnd make the grave their spokesman--such as heAre as the hidden streams that, underground,Sweeten the pastures for the grazing kine,Or as spring airs that bring through prison barsThe scent of freedom; or a light that burnsImmutably across the shaken seas,Forevermore by nameless hands renewed,Where else were darkness and a glutted shore.
Words in this poem 16
- palimpsest n.
- A parchment which has been written upon twice, the first writing having been erased to make place for the second. [L. palimpsestus, Gr. palimpseste.]
- pyre n.
- A funeral pile; a combustible heap on which the dead are burned; hence, any pile to be burnt. [L. pure, Gr. Fire.]
- claps v. t.
- Variant of Clasp
- skyward a.
- Toward the sky.
- sisyphean a.
- Relating to Sisyphus; incessantly recurring; as, Sisyphean labors.
- sceptre n.
- A staff or baton borne by a sovereign, as a ceremonial badge or emblem of authority; a royal mace. [F. sceptre, L. sceptrum, from Gr. shaft. See Shaft, and cf. Scape a stem, shaft.]
- babel n.
- The city and tower in the land of Shinar, where the confusion of languages took place. [Heb. Babel, the name of the capital of Babylonia; in Genesis associated with the idea of "confusion"]
- emprise n.
- An enterprise; endeavor; adventure. [OF. emprise, fr. emprendre to undertake; pref. em- (L. in) + F. prendre to take, L. prehendere, prendere; prae before + a verb akin to E. get. See Get, and cf. ]
- rashness n.
- The quality of state of being rash.
- libation n.
- The act of pouring a liquid or liquor, usually wine, either on the ground or on a victim in sacrifice, in honor of some deity; also, the wine or liquid thus poured out. [L. libatio, fr. libare to take a little from anything, to taste, to pour out as an offering: cf. F. libation.]
- brimming a.
- Full to the brim; overflowing.
- 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,]
- upheaval n.
- The act of upheaving, or the state of being upheaved; esp., an elevation of a portion of the earth's crust. Lubbock.
- misnomer n.
- The misnaming of a person in a legal instrument, as in a complaint or indictment; any misnaming of a person or thing; a wrong or inapplicable name or title. [OF. pref. mes- amiss, wrong (L. minus less) + F. nommer to name, L. nominare, fr. nomen name. See Name.]
- splendidly adv.
- In a splendid manner; magnificently.
- nameless a.
- Without a name; not having been given a name; as, a nameless star.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Torchbearer is in the public domain. This text is taken from Artemis to Actaeon, and Other Verses, Project Gutenberg ebook #4549; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Edith Wharton, A Torchbearer, in Artemis to Actaeon, and Other Verse (1909), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #4549, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/wharton-artemis/a-torchbearer.html, id L22225.
Form and metre
A Torchbearer is 53 lines in 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%).
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.
- 2 -----A----------A upon · wrist · dust · time · lives · greatA · hand · years · hour · search · heaven · they · day's · leash · tasks · emprise · fateA
- 4 -A--------A-- raise · theseA · pomp · lives · vaults · he · underground · kine · bars · burns · seasA · renewed · shore
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 |
|---|---|---|
| GREAT cities rise and have their fall; the brass | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| That held their glories moulders in its turn. | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Hard granite rots like an uprooted weed, | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘· |
| And ever on the palimpsest of earth | 10 | ·/˘··/˘˘·· |
| Impatient Time rubs out the word he writ. | 10 | ˘/˘······· |
| But one thing makes the years its pedestal, | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| Springs from the ashes of its pyre, and claps | 10 | ···/˘··/·· |
| A skyward wing above its epitaph-- | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| The will of man willing immortal things. | 10 | ····/˘˘/˘· |
| The ages are but baubles hung upon | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| The thread of some strong lives--and one slight wrist | 10 | ·········· |
| May lift a century above the dust; | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| For Time, | 2 | ·· |
| The Sisyphean load of little lives, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Becomes the globe and sceptre of the great. | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| But who are these that, linking hand in hand, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Transmit across the twilight waste of years | 10 | ˘/˘/·/···· |
| The flying brightness of a kindled hour? | 11 | ·/˘/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Not always, nor alone, the lives that search | 10 | ·/··˘/···· |
| How they may snatch a glory out of heaven | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| Or add a height to Babel; oftener they | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| That in the still fulfilment of each day's | 10 | ·········· |
| Pacific order hold great deeds in leash, | 10 | ˘/˘/˘····· |
| That in the sober sheath of tranquil tasks | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Hide the attempered blade of high emprise, | 10 | ········˘/ |
| And leap like lightning to the clap of fate. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| So greatly gave he, nurturing 'gainst the call | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Of one rare moment all the daily store | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Of joy distilled from the acquitted task, | 10 | ··˘/··˘/˘· |
| And that deliberate rashness which bespeaks | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘·˘/ |
| The pondered action passed into the blood; | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| So swift to harden purpose into deed | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| That, with the wind of ruin in his hair, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Soul sprang full-statured from the broken flesh, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And at one stroke he lived the whole of life, | 10 | ·········· |
| Poured all in one libation to the truth, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| A brimming flood whose drops shall overflow | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| On deserts of the soul long beaten down | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| By the brute hoof of habit, till they spring | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| In manifold upheaval to the sun. | 10 | ·/˘·˘/˘··· |
| Call here no high artificer to raise | 10 | ····˘/˘˘·· |
| His wordy monument--such lives as these | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘···· |
| Make death a dull misnomer and its pomp | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| An empty vesture. Let resounding lives | 10 | ·/˘/˘·˘/˘· |
| Re-echo splendidly through high-piled vaults | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘···· |
| And make the grave their spokesman--such as he | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Are as the hidden streams that, underground, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Sweeten the pastures for the grazing kine, | 10 | /˘·/˘··/˘· |
| Or as spring airs that bring through prison bars | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| The scent of freedom; or a light that burns | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Immutably across the shaken seas, | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| Forevermore by nameless hands renewed, | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Where else were darkness and a glutted shore. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
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