Analysis of Fifty Years (1863-1913)
James Weldon Johnson 1871 (Jacksonville) – 1938 (Wiscasset)
O brothers mine, to-day we stand
Where half a century sweeps our ken,
Since God, through Lincoln's ready hand,
Struck off our bonds and made us men.
Just fifty years - a winter's day -
As runs the history of a race;
Yet, as we look back o'er the way,
How distant seems our starting place!
Look farther back! Three centuries!
To where a naked, shivering score,
Snatched from their haunts across the seas,
Stood, wild-eyed, on Virginia's shore.
This land is ours by right of birth,
This land is ours by right of toil;
We helped to turn its virgin earth,
Our sweat is in its fruitful soil.
Where once the tangled forest stood, -
Where flourished once rank weed and thorn, -
Behold the path-traced, peaceful wood,
The cotton white, the yellow corn.
To gain these fruits that have been earned,
To hold these fields that have been won,
Our arms have strained, our backs have burned,
Bent bare beneath a ruthless sun.
That Banner which is now the type
Of victory on field and flood -
Remember, its first crimson stripe
Was dyed by Attucks' willing blood.
And never yet has come the cry -
When that fair flag has been assailed -
For men to do, for men to die,
That we have faltered or have failed.
We've helped to bear it, rent and torn,
Through many a hot-breath'd battle breeze
Held in our hands, it has been borne
And planted far across the seas.
And never yet, - O haughty Land,
Let us, at least, for this be praised -
Has one black, treason-guided hand
Ever against that flag been raised.
Then should we speak but servile words,
Or shall we hang our heads in shame?
Stand back of new-come foreign hordes,
And fear our heritage to claim?
No! stand erect and without fear,
And for our foes let this suffice -
We've bought a rightful sonship here,
And we have more than paid the price.
And yet, my brothers, well I know
The tethered feet, the pinioned wings,
The spirit bowed beneath the blow,
The heart grown faint from wounds and stings;
The staggering force of brutish might,
That strikes and leaves us stunned and dazed;
The long, vain waiting through the night
To hear some voice for justice raised.
Full well I know the hour when hope
Sinks dead, and 'round us everywhere
Hangs stifling darkness, and we grope
With hands uplifted in despair.
Courage! Look out, beyond, and see
The far horizon's beckoning span!
Faith in your God-known destiny!
We are a part of some great plan.
Because the tongues of Garrison
And Phillips now are cold in death,
Think you their work can be undone?
Or quenched the fires lit by their breath?
Think you that John Brown's spirit stops?
That Lovejoy was but idly slain?
Or do you think those precious drops
From Lincoln's heart were shed in vain?
That for which millions prayed and sighed,
That for which tens of thousands fought,
For which so many freely died,
God cannot let it come to naught.
Scheme | ABAB CDCD EFEF GHGH IJIJ KLKL MNMN OPOP JEJE AQAQ XRXR XSXS TUTU VQVQ WXWX YZYZ L1 L1 2 3 2 3 4 5 4 5 |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain |
Metre | 11011111 1101001101 11110101 111010111 11010101 110100101 111111001 110110101 11011100 110101001 11110101 11110101 111101111 111101111 11111101 101101101 11010101 11011101 01011101 01010101 11111111 11111111 1011110111 11010101 11011101 11001101 01011101 1111101 01011101 11111101 11111111 11110111 11111101 110011101 101011111 01010101 01011101 11111111 11110101 10011111 11111101 111110101 11111101 011010011 11010011 011011101 1101011 01111101 01110111 0101011 01010101 01111101 010011101 11011101 01110101 11111101 111101011 1101110 11010011 11100001 10110101 010101001 10111100 11011111 01011100 01011101 11111101 110101111 11111101 1111101 11111101 11010101 11110101 11111101 11110101 11011111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,758 |
Words | 518 |
Sentences | 29 |
Stanzas | 19 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 76 |
Letters per line (avg) | 29 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 116 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 27 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on May 02, 2023
- 2:38 min read
- 98 Views
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"Fifty Years (1863-1913)" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/20703/fifty-years-%281863-1913%29>.
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