American Spring Song
In the spring, when winds blew and farmers were plowing fields,It came into my mind to be glad because of my brutality.
Along a street I went and over a bridge.
I went through many streets in my city and over many bridges.
Men and women I struck with my fists and my hands began to bleed.
Under a bridge I crawled and stood trembling with joyAt the river's edge.
Because it was spring and soft sunlight came through the cracks of the bridgeI tried to understand myself.
Out of the mud at the river's edge I moulded myself a god,A grotesque little god with a twisted face,A god for myself and my men.
You see now, brother, how it was.
I was a man with clothes made by a Jewish tailor,Cunningly wrought clothes, made for a nameless one.
I wore a white collar and some one had given me a jeweled pinTo wear at my throat.That amused and hurt me too.
No one knew that I knelt in the mud beneath the bridgeIn the city of Chicago.
You see I am whispering my secret to you.
I want you to believe in my insanity and to understand that I love God—
That's want I want.
And then, you see, it was springAnd soft sunlight came through the cracks of the bridge.
I had been long alone in a strange place where no gods came.
Creep, men, and kiss the twisted face of my mud god.
I'll not hit you with my bleeding fists.
I'm a twisted god myself.
It is spring and love has come to me—Love has come to me and to my men.
Words in this poem
- brutality n.
- The quality of being brutal; inhumanity; savageness; pitilessness. [Cf. F. brutalité.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- nameless a.
- Without a name; not having been given a name; as, a nameless star.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
American Spring Song is in the public domain. This text is taken from Mid-American Chants (New York: John Lane Company; London: John Lane, The Bodley Head, 1918), Internet Archive; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Sherwood Anderson, American Spring Song, in Mid-American Chants (1918), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/anderson-mid-american-chants/american-spring-song.html, id L29472.
Form and metre
American Spring Song is 31 lines in 20 stanzas. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in iambic pentameter.
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.
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 |
|---|---|---|
| In the spring, when winds blew and farmers were plowing fields, | 13 | ·······/˘·/˘· |
| It came into my mind to be glad because of my brutality. | 17 | ·············˘/˘˘ |
| Along a street I went and over a bridge. | 11 | ˘/········· |
| I went through many streets in my city and over many bridges. | 17 | ···/˘···/˘···/˘/˘ |
| Men and women I struck with my fists and my hands began to bleed. | 16 | ··/˘········˘/·· |
| Under a bridge I crawled and stood trembling with joy | 13 | ········/˘˘·· |
| At the river's edge. | 5 | ··/˘· |
| Because it was spring and soft sunlight came through the cracks of the bridge | 16 | ·······/········ |
| I tried to understand myself. | 8 | ····˘/·/ |
| Out of the mud at the river's edge I moulded myself a god, | 16 | ······/˘··/˘·/·· |
| A grotesque little god with a twisted face, | 11 | ·˘//˘···/˘· |
| A god for myself and my men. | 8 | ····/··· |
| You see now, brother, how it was. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| I was a man with clothes made by a Jewish tailor, | 13 | ·········/˘/˘ |
| Cunningly wrought clothes, made for a nameless one. | 11 | /˘˘·····/˘· |
| I wore a white collar and some one had given me a jeweled pin | 17 | ····/˘····/˘··/˘· |
| To wear at my throat. | 5 | ····· |
| That amused and hurt me too. | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| No one knew that I knelt in the mud beneath the bridge | 13 | ············· |
| In the city of Chicago. | 8 | ··/˘·˘/· |
| You see I am whispering my secret to you. | 12 | ····/˘˘·/˘·· |
| I want you to believe in my insanity and to understand that I love God— | 21 | ····˘/··˘/˘˘···˘/···· |
| That's want I want. | 4 | ···· |
| And then, you see, it was spring | 7 | ······· |
| And soft sunlight came through the cracks of the bridge. | 11 | ··/········ |
| I had been long alone in a strange place where no gods came. | 14 | ····˘/········ |
| Creep, men, and kiss the twisted face of my mud god. | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| I'll not hit you with my bleeding fists. | 9 | ······/˘· |
| I'm a twisted god myself. | 7 | ··/˘··/ |
| It is spring and love has come to me— | 9 | ········· |
| Love has come to me and to my men. | 9 | ········· |
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.