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Unread 08-21-2005, 05:01 PM
Mark Granier Mark Granier is offline
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Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Ireland
Posts: 572
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Carol,
I suspect the meter isn't as clear-cut as as consistent accentual trimeter, and I think if you try to read it as such you run into problems and stumble on those longer lines, which is probably part of the reason some people here have trouble with them; for example when you try to read the deliberately peculiar word "champed" as unstressed. De le Mare may have used something like accentual trimeter to get the framework, but I feel that part of the power in this poem is the way it alternates trimeter with tetrameter,and even, possibly, pentameter (but I won't try to push that one). I may be completely wrong of course; this is just how it sounds to me, when I read it to myself. I was wondering how the man himself might have read it and I actually have a recording of poets that includes three De la Mare poems, but not, unfortunately The Listeners. Interesting to hear him though, a rather nasal, posh, 1930/40s Brit accent, an early BBC voice, but pleasant enough, and not overly mechanical at all.

Anyway, this is how I hear it the accents in my head:


Is there ANYbody THERE?' said the TRAveller,
KNOCKing on the MOONlit DOOR;
And his HORSE in the SIlence CHAMPED the GRAsses
Of the FORest's FERny FLOOR:
And a BIRD flew up OUT of the TURret,
aBOVE the TRAveller's HEAD
And he SMOTE upon the DOOR aGAIN a SECond time;
'Is there ANYbody THERE?' he SAID.
But NO one desCENded to the TRAveller;
No HEAD from the LEAF-fringed SILL
Leaned OVer and LOOKED into his grey EYES,
Where he STOOD perPLEXED and STILL.
But ONly a HOST of PHANtom LISteners
That DWELT in the LONE house THEN
Stood LIStening in the QUIET of the MOONlight
To that VOICE from the WORLD of MEN:
Stood THRONGing the faint MOONbeams on the DARK stair,
That goes DOWN to the EMpty HALL,
HEARKening in an air STIRRED and SHAken
By the LONely TRAveller's CALL.
And he FELT in his HEART their STRANgeness,
Their STILLness ANswering his CRY,
While his horse MOVED, CROPping the dark TURF,
'Neath the STARRED and LEAfy SKy;
For he SUDdenly SMOTE on the DOOR, even
LOUDer, and LIFted his HEAD:-
'TELL them i CAME, and NO one ANswered,
That I KEPT my WORD,' he SAID.
NEVer the least STIR made the LISteners,
Though EVery WORD he SPAKE
Fell EChoing through the SHADowiness of the STILL house
From the ONE man LEFT aWAKE:
AY, they HEARD his FOOT upon the STIRrup,
And the SOUND of IRON on STONE,
And how the SIlence SURGED SOFtly BACkward,
When the PLUNging HOOFS were GONE.

Mark, thanks for putting that poem before me again, and for the pleasure I got from reading it through once more.

[This message has been edited by Mark Granier (edited August 22, 2005).]
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