To a Certain Civilian
Did you ask dulcet rhymes from me?Did you seek the civilian’s peaceful and languishing rhymes?Did you find what I sang erewhile so hard to follow?Why I was not singing erewhile for you to follow, to understand--noram I now;(I have been born of the same as the war was born,The drum-corps’ rattle is ever to me sweet music, I love well themartial dirge,With slow wail and convulsive throb leading the officer’s funeral;)What to such as you anyhow such a poet as I? therefore leave my works,And go lull yourself with what you can understand, and with piano-tunes,For I lull nobody, and you will never understand me.
Words in this poem
- dulcet a.
- Sweet to the taste; luscious. [OF. doucet, dim. of dous sweet, F. doux, L. dulcis; akin to Gr. Doucet.]
- erewhile adv.
- Some time ago; a little while before; heretofore.
- corps n.
- The human body, whether living or dead. See Corpse, 1. [F., fr. L. corpus body. See Corpse.]
- dirge n.
- A piece of music of a mournful character, to accompany funeral rites; a funeral hymn. [Contraction of Lat. dirige, direct thou (imperative of dirigere), the first word of a funeral hymn (Lat. transl. of Psalm v. 8) beginning, "Dirige, Domine, in c]
- throb v. i.
- To beat, or pulsate, with more than usual force or rapidity; to beat in consequence of agitation; to palpitate; -- said of the heart, pulse, etc. [OE. ; of uncertain origin; cf. Russ. trepete a trembling, and E. trepidation.]
- anyhow adv.
- In any way or manner whatever; at any rate; in any event.
- lull v. t.
- To cause to rest by soothing influences; to compose; to calm; to soothe; to quiet. [Akin to OD. lullen to sing to sleep, G. lullen, Dan. lulle, Sw. lulla; all of imitative origin. Cf. Loll, Lollard.]
- nobody n.
- No person; no one; not anybody. [No, a. + body.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
To a Certain Civilian is in the public domain. This text is taken from Leaves of Grass, Project Gutenberg ebook #1322; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Walt Whitman, To a Certain Civilian, in Leaves of Grass (1855–1892), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1322, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/whitman-leaves/to-a-certain-civilian.html, id L03970.
Form and metre
To a Certain Civilian is 12 lines in a single stanza. 82% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 13.4 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 17% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 A-----A----A meA · rhymes · follow · nor · now · born · theA · dirge · funeral · works · tunes · meA
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. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Did you ask dulcet rhymes from me? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Did you seek the civilian’s peaceful and languishing rhymes? | 14 | ····˘/˘/˘·/˘˘· |
| Did you find what I sang erewhile so hard to follow? | 15 | ·············/˘ |
| Why I was not singing erewhile for you to follow, to understand--nor | 20 | ····/˘·······/˘··˘/· |
| am I now; | 3 | ··· |
| (I have been born of the same as the war was born, | 12 | ············ |
| The drum-corps’ rattle is ever to me sweet music, I love well the | 17 | ···/˘·/˘···/˘···· |
| martial dirge, | 3 | /˘· |
| With slow wail and convulsive throb leading the officer’s funeral;) | 17 | ····˘/˘·/˘·/˘˘/˘˘ |
| What to such as you anyhow such a poet as I? therefore leave my works, | 19 | ·····/˘···/˘······· |
| And go lull yourself with what you can understand, and with piano-tunes, | 18 | ···˘/·····˘/··˘/˘· |
| For I lull nobody, and you will never understand me. | 15 | ···/·····/˘·˘/· |
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.