What Shall We Do?
Here now forevermore our lives must part.My path leads there, and yours another way.What shall we do with this fond love, dear heart?It grows a heavier burden day by day.
Hide it? In all earth's caverns, void and vast,There is not room enough to hide it, dear;Not even the mighty storehouse of the pastCould cover it from our own eyes, I fear.
Drown it? Why, were the contents of each oceanMerged into one great sea, too shallow thenWould be its waters to sink this emotionSo deep it could not rise to life again.
Burn it? In all the furnace flames below,It would not in a thousand years expire.Nay! it would thrive, exult, expand, and grow,For from its very birth it fed on fire.
Starve it? Yes, yes, that is the only way.Give it no food, of glance, or word, or sigh;No memories, even, of any bygone day;No crumbs of vain regrets--so let it die.
Words in this poem
- 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,]
- bygone n.
- Something gone by or past; a past event.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
What Shall We Do? is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems of Passion, Project Gutenberg ebook #16776; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ella Wheeler Wilcox, What Shall We Do?, in Poems of Passion (1883), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16776, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/wilcox-passion/what-shall-we-do.html, id L22147.
Form and metre
What Shall We Do? is 20 lines in 5 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABAB. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%).
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 ABAB partA · wayB · heartA · dayB
- 2 ABAB vastA · dearB · pastA · fearB
- 3 ABAB oceanA · thenB · emotionA · againB
- 4 ABAB belowA · expireB · growA · fireB
- 5 ABAB wayA · sighB · dayA · dieB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Here now forevermore our lives must part. | 10 | ······/··· |
| My path leads there, and yours another way. | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| What shall we do with this fond love, dear heart? | 10 | ·········· |
| It grows a heavier burden day by day. | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Hide it? In all earth's caverns, void and vast, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| There is not room enough to hide it, dear; | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Not even the mighty storehouse of the past | 10 | ·/·/˘/···· |
| Could cover it from our own eyes, I fear. | 10 | ·/˘··/···· |
| Drown it? Why, were the contents of each ocean | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| Merged into one great sea, too shallow then | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Would be its waters to sink this emotion | 11 | ···/˘···˘/˘ |
| So deep it could not rise to life again. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Burn it? In all the furnace flames below, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| It would not in a thousand years expire. | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Nay! it would thrive, exult, expand, and grow, | 10 | ····˘/˘/·· |
| For from its very birth it fed on fire. | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| Starve it? Yes, yes, that is the only way. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Give it no food, of glance, or word, or sigh; | 10 | ·········· |
| No memories, even, of any bygone day; | 10 | ·/˘/·/˘/·· |
| No crumbs of vain regrets--so let it die. | 10 | ····˘/···· |
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.