Analysis of The Prodigal Son

James Weldon Johnson 1871 (Jacksonville) – 1938 (Wiscasset)



Young man—
Young man—
Your arm’s too short to box with God.

But Jesus spake in a parable, and he said:
A certain man had two sons.
Jesus didn’t give this man a name,
But his name is God Almighty.
And Jesus didn’t call these sons by name,
But ev’ry young man,
Ev’rywhere,
Is one of these two sons.

And the younger son said to his father,
He said: Father, divide up the property,
And give me my portion now.

And the father with tears in his eyes said: Son,
Don’t leave your father’s house.
But the boy was stubborn in his head,
And haughty in his heart,
And he took his share of his father’s goods,
And went into a far-off country.

There comes a time,
There comes a time
When ev’ry young man looks out from his father’s house,
Longing for that far-off country.

And the young man journeyed on his way,
And he said to himself as he travelled along:
This sure is an easy road,
Nothing like the rough furrows behind my father’s plow.

Young man—
Young man—
Smooth and easy is the road
That leads to hell and destruction.
Down grade all the way,
The further you travel, the faster you go.
No need to trudge and sweat and toil,
Just slip and slide and slip and slide
Till you bang up against hell’s iron gate.

And the younger son kept travelling along,
Till at night-time he came to a city.
And the city was bright in the night-time like day,
The streets all crowded with people,
Brass bands and string bands a-playing,
And ev’rywhere the young man turned
There was singing and laughing and dancing.
And he stopped a passer-by and he said:
Tell me what city is this?
And the passer-by laughed and said: Don’t you know?
This is Babylon, Babylon,
That great city of Babylon.
Come on, my friend, and go along with me.
And the young man joined the crowd.

Young man—
Young man—
You’re never lonesome in Babylon.
You can always join a crowd in Babylon.
Young man—
Young man—
You can never be alone in Babylon,
Alone with your Jesus in Babylon.
You can never find a place, a lonesome place,
A lonesome place to go down on your knees,
And talk with your God, in Babylon.
You’re always in a crowd in Babylon.
And the young man went with his new-found friend,
And bought himself some brand new clothes,
And he spent his days in the drinking dens,
Swallowing the fires of hell.
And he spent his nights in the gambling dens,
Throwing dice with the devil for his soul.
And he met up with the women of Babylon.
Oh, the women of Babylon!
Dressed in yellow and purple and scarlet,
Loaded with rings and earrings and bracelets,
Their lips like a honeycomb dripping with honey,
Perfumed and sweet-smelling like a jasmine flower;
And the jasmine smell of the Babylon women
Got in his nostrils and went to his head,
And he wasted his substance in riotous living,
In the evening, in the black and dark of night,
With the sweet-sinning women of Babylon.
And they stripped him of his money,
And they stripped him of his clothes,
And they left him broke and ragged
In the streets of Babylon.

Then the young man joined another crowd—
The beggars and lepers of Babylon.
And he went to feeding swine,
And he was hungrier than the hogs;
He got down on his belly in the mire and mud
And ate the husks with the hogs.
And not a hog was too low to turn up his nose
At the man in the mire of Babylon.

Then the young man came to himself—
He came to himself and said:
In my father’s house are many mansions,
Ev’ry servant in his house has bread to eat,
Ev’ry servant in his house has a place to sleep;
I will arise and go to my father.
And his father saw him afar off,
And he ran up the road to meet him.
He put clean clothes upon his back,
And a golden chain around his neck,
He made a feast and killed the fatted calf,
And invited the neighbors in.

Oh-o-oh, sinner,
When you’re mingling with the crowd in Babylon—
Drinking the wine of Babylon—
Running with the women of Babylon—
You forget about God, and you laugh at Death.
Today you’ve got the strength of a bull in your neck
And the strength of a bear in your arms,
But some o’ these days, some o’ these days,
You’ll have a hand-to-hand struggle with bony Death,
And Death is bound to win.

Young man, come away from Babylon,
That hell-border city of Babyl


Scheme AAx bcdedafc feg hibxxe JJie klmg AAmhknoxx lekxpxpbxnqqer AAqqAAqqxxqqxstxtxqqxxefhbpxqesuq rqxvuvxq xbcxxfxxxwxx fqqqywxxyx qo
Poetic Form
Metre 11 11 11111111 110100100011 0101111 10111101 11111010 010111111 1111 1 111111 0010111110 11100110100 0111101 00101101111 111101 101110011 010011 0111111101 010101110 1101 1101 11111111101 10111110 001110111 011101111001 1111101 101011011101 11 11 1010101 11110010 11101 01011001011 11110101 11010101 1111011101 00101110001 1111111010 001011001111 01110110 11011010 010111 1110010010 0110101011 1111011 00101101111 111010 1110110 1111010111 0011101 11 11 11010010 111101010 11 11 1110101010 011110010 11101010101 0101111111 01111010 11001010 0011111111 01011111 0111100101 10001011 01111001001 1011010111 01111010110 1010110 1010010010 1011010010 11101010110 010110101010 00101101010 1011001111 0110110010010 00100010111 1011010110 01111110 0111111 01111010 001110 101110101 010010110 0111101 011100101 111111000101 0101101 010111111111 101001110 10111101 1110101 0110111010 1100111111 11001110111 1101011110 011011011 011101111 11110111 001010111 110101011 00100100 11110 11100101010 1001110 101010110 10101101111 011101101011 001101011 111111111 110111101101 011111 11101110 11101011
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 4,240
Words 791
Sentences 39
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 3, 8, 3, 6, 4, 4, 9, 14, 33, 8, 12, 10, 2
Lines Amount 116
Letters per line (avg) 28
Words per line (avg) 7
Letters per stanza (avg) 247
Words per stanza (avg) 61
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on May 02, 2023

3:57 min read
709

James Weldon Johnson

James Weldon Johnson was an American author, educator, lawyer, diplomat, songwriter, and early civil rights activist. Johnson is best remembered for his leadership within the NAACP as well as for his writing, which includes novels, poems, and anthologies. He was also the first African-American professor at New York University. Later in life he was a professor of creative literature and writing at Fisk University. more…

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