Responsibilities
Pardon, old fathers, if you still remainSomewhere in ear-shot for the story's end,Old Dublin merchant 'free of ten and four'Or trading out of Galway into Spain;And country scholar, Robert Emmet's friend,A hundred-year-old memory to the poor;Traders or soldiers who have left me bloodThat has not passed through any huxter's loin,Pardon, and you that did not weigh the cost,Old Butlers when you took to horse and stoodBeside the brackish waters of the BoyneTill your bad master blenched and all was lost;You merchant skipper that leaped overboardAfter a ragged hat in Biscay Bay,You most of all, silent and fierce old manBecause you were the spectacle that stirredMy fancy, and set my boyish lips to say'Only the wasteful virtues earn the sun';Pardon that for a barren passion's sake,Although I have come close on forty-nineI have no child, I have nothing but a book,Nothing but that to prove your blood and mine.
Words in this poem
- somewhere adv.
- In some place unknown or not specified; in one place or another.
- skipper n.
- One who, or that which, skips.
- boyish a.
- Resembling a boy in a manners or opinions; belonging to a boy; childish; trifling; puerile.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Responsibilities is in the public domain. This text is taken from Responsibilities, and other poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #36865; 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, Responsibilities, (1914), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #36865, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/yeats-responsibilities/responsibilities.html, id L04552.
Form and metre
Responsibilities is 22 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 88% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 41% 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 AB-AB-CDECDE-F--F--G-G remainA · endB · four · spainA · friendB · poor · bloodC · loinD · costE · stoodC · boyneD · lostE · overboard · bayF · man · stirred · sayF · sun · sake · nineG · book · mineG
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Pardon, old fathers, if you still remain | 10 | /˘·/˘···˘/ |
| Somewhere in ear-shot for the story's end, | 10 | /······/˘· |
| Old Dublin merchant 'free of ten and four' | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Or trading out of Galway into Spain; | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| And country scholar, Robert Emmet's friend, | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘/˘· |
| A hundred-year-old memory to the poor; | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Traders or soldiers who have left me blood | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| That has not passed through any huxter's loin, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Pardon, and you that did not weigh the cost, | 10 | /˘········ |
| Old Butlers when you took to horse and stood | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Beside the brackish waters of the Boyne | 10 | ˘/·/˘/˘··· |
| Till your bad master blenched and all was lost; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| You merchant skipper that leaped overboard | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| After a ragged hat in Biscay Bay, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| You most of all, silent and fierce old man | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Because you were the spectacle that stirred | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| My fancy, and set my boyish lips to say | 11 | ·/˘···/˘··· |
| 'Only the wasteful virtues earn the sun'; | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| Pardon that for a barren passion's sake, | 10 | /˘···/˘/˘· |
| Although I have come close on forty-nine | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| I have no child, I have nothing but a book, | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| Nothing but that to prove your blood and mine. | 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.