Analysis of The Song Of The Negro Boatmen
O, praise an' tanks! De Lord he come
To set de people free;
An' massa tink it day ob doom,
An' we ob jubilee.
De Lord dat heap de Red Sea waves
He jus' as 'trong as den;
He say de word: we las' night slaves;
To-day, de Lord's freemen.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
We'll hab de rice an' corn:
O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
De driver blow his horn!
Ole massa on he trabbels gone;
He leaf de land behind;
De Lord's breff blow him furder on,
Like corn-shuck in de wind.
We own de hoe, we own de plough,
We own de hands dat hold;
We sell de pig, we sell de cow,
But nebber chile be sold.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
We'll hab de rice an' corn:
O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
De driver blow his horn!
We pray de Lord: he gib us signs
Dat some day we be free;
De norf-wind tell it to de pines,
De wild-duck to de sea;
We tink it when de church-bell ring,
We dream it in de dream;
De rice-bird mean it when he sing,
De eagle when he scream.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
We'll hab de rice an' corn:
O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
De driver blow his horn!
We know de promise nebber fail,
An' nebber lie de word;
So like de 'postles in de jail,
We waited for de Lord:
An' now he open ebery door
An' trow away de key;
He tink we lub him so before,
We lub him better free.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
He'll gib de rice an' corn:
O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
De driver blow his horn!
So sing our dusky gondoliers;
And with a secret pain,
And smiles that seem akin to tears,
We hear the wild refrain.
We dare not share the negro's trust,
Nor yet his hope deny;
We only know that God is just,
And every wrong shall die.
Rude seems the song; each swarthy face
Flame-lighted, ruder still:
We start to think that hapless race
Must shape our good or ill;
That laws of changeless justice bind
Oppressor with oppressed;
And, close as sin and suffering joined,
We march to Fate abreast.
Sing on, poor hearts! your chant shall be
Our sign of blight or bloom,—
The Vala-song of Liberty,
Or death-rune of our doom!
Scheme | xabacdcdEFGF xhxhijijEFGF kakalmlmEFGF nxnxoaoaEfGF xpxp qrqr stst huxu abab |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11111111 111101 11011111 11110 11111111 111111 11111111 111110 11111101 111111 11111111 110111 1101111 111101 1111111 111011 11111111 111111 11111111 111011 11111101 111111 11111111 110111 11111111 111111 11111111 111111 11111111 111011 11111111 110111 11111101 111111 11111111 110111 1111011 11111 1111011 110111 1111011 110111 11111101 111101 11111101 111111 11111111 110111 1110101 010101 01110111 110101 1111011 111101 11011111 0100111 11011101 110101 11111101 1110111 1111101 010101 011101001 111101 11111111 1011111 01011100 1111101 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,051 |
Words | 417 |
Sentences | 17 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 12, 12, 12, 12, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 68 |
Letters per line (avg) | 22 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 169 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 46 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:07 min read
- 27 Views
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"The Song Of The Negro Boatmen" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/3515/the-song-of-the-negro-boatmen>.
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