The Ballad of Father Gilligan
The old priest Peter GilliganWas weary night and day;For half his flock were in their beds,Or under green sods lay.
Once, while he nodded on a chair,At the moth-hour of eve,Another poor man sent for him,And he began to grieve.
"I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace,"For people die and die";And after cried he, "God forgive!"My body spake, not I!"
He knelt, and leaning on the chairHe prayed and fell asleep;And the moth-hour went from the fields,And stars began to peep.
They slowly into millions grew,And leaves shook in the wind;And God covered the world with shade,And whispered to mankind.
Upon the time of sparrow chirpWhen the moths came once more,The old priest Peter GilliganStood upright on the floor.
"Mavrone, mavrone! the man has died,"While I slept on the chair";He roused his horse out of its sleep,And rode with little care.
He rode now as he never rode,By rocky lane and fen;The sick man's wife opened the door:"Father! you come again!"
"And is the poor man dead?" he cried,"He died an hour ago,"The old priest Peter GilliganIn grief swayed to and fro.
"When you were gone, he turned and died"As merry as a bird."The old priest Peter GilliganHe knelt him at that word.
"He who hath made the night of stars"For souls, who tire and bleed,"Sent one of His great angels down"To help me in my need.
"He who is wrapped in purple robes,"With planets in His care,"Had pity on the least of things"Asleep upon a chair."
Words in this poem
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
- rode n.
- Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
- swayed a.
- Bent down, and hollow in the back; sway-backed; -- said of a horse.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Ballad of Father Gilligan is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #38877; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: W. B. Yeats, The Ballad of Father Gilligan, in Poems (1895), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #38877, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/yeats-poems/the-ballad-of-father-gilligan.html, id L16665.
Form and metre
The Ballad of Father Gilligan is 48 lines in 12 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.2 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 21% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in common measure.
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 gilligan · dayA · beds · layA
- 2 -A-A chair · eveA · him · grieveA
- 3 -A-A peace · dieA · forgive · iA
- 4 -A-A chair · asleepA · fields · peepA
- 5 -A-A grew · windA · shade · mankindA
- 6 -A-A chirp · moreA · gilligan · floorA
- 7 -A-A died · chairA · sleep · careA
- 8 -A-A rode · fenA · door · againA
- 9 -A-A cried · agoA · gilligan · froA
- 10 -A-A died · birdA · gilligan · wordA
- 11 -A-A stars · bleedA · down · needA
- 12 -A-A robes · careA · things · chairA
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 common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| The old priest Peter Gilligan | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| Was weary night and day; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| For half his flock were in their beds, | 8 | ········ |
| Or under green sods lay. | 6 | ······ |
| Once, while he nodded on a chair, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| At the moth-hour of eve, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Another poor man sent for him, | 8 | ˘/˘····· |
| And he began to grieve. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| "I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace, | 8 | ········ |
| "For people die and die"; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And after cried he, "God forgive! | 8 | ······˘/ |
| "My body spake, not I!" | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| He knelt, and leaning on the chair | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| He prayed and fell asleep; | 6 | ····˘/ |
| And the moth-hour went from the fields, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| And stars began to peep. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| They slowly into millions grew, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And leaves shook in the wind; | 6 | ······ |
| And God covered the world with shade, | 9 | ··/˘˘···· |
| And whispered to mankind. | 6 | ·/˘·// |
| Upon the time of sparrow chirp | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| When the moths came once more, | 6 | ······ |
| The old priest Peter Gilligan | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| Stood upright on the floor. | 6 | ·˘/··· |
| "Mavrone, mavrone! the man has died, | 8 | ········ |
| "While I slept on the chair"; | 6 | ······ |
| He roused his horse out of its sleep, | 9 | ··˘······ |
| And rode with little care. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| He rode now as he never rode, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| By rocky lane and fen; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The sick man's wife opened the door: | 9 | ····/˘˘·· |
| "Father! you come again!" | 6 | /˘··˘/ |
| "And is the poor man dead?" he cried, | 8 | ········ |
| "He died an hour ago," | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| The old priest Peter Gilligan | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| In grief swayed to and fro. | 6 | ······ |
| "When you were gone, he turned and died | 9 | ······˘·· |
| "As merry as a bird." | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The old priest Peter Gilligan | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| He knelt him at that word. | 6 | ······ |
| "He who hath made the night of stars | 8 | ········ |
| "For souls, who tire and bleed, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| "Sent one of His great angels down | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| "To help me in my need. | 6 | ······ |
| "He who is wrapped in purple robes, | 9 | ····˘·/˘· |
| "With planets in His care, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| "Had pity on the least of things | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| "Asleep upon a chair." | 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.