Industrialism
In the long house of hate,In the long hours,In the never-ending day;Over the fields—her black hair flying—My mistressTerribleGiganticGaunt and drear.
I've got to die—you've got to die.We do not fancy your thin hands,That reach and reach into the vaseWhere old things rust.Death to you—Now.Thin dream of beauty,You be gone.
Our fathers in the village streetsHad flowing beards and they believed.I saw them run into the night—Crushed.Old knowledge and all old beliefsBy your hand killed—My mistressGrim.
Awake and shake thy dusty locks.Come, drive the soldiers to their toil.A million men my mistress needs,To kissAnd killFor her desire,To-night—Arise.
Out of the vase the long thin hand,To grip the sword that men forgetMy mistress waits beside the millTo kiss the swordOf ChristOr you,Who dareFor her.
Words in this poem
- gaunt a.
- Attenuated, as with fasting or suffering; lean; meager; pinched and grim. [Cf. Norw. gand a thin pointed stick, a tall and thin man, and W. gwan weak.]
- drear n.
- Sadness; dismalness.
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Industrialism 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, Industrialism, in Mid-American Chants (1918), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/anderson-mid-american-chants/industrialism.html, id L29463.
Form and metre
Industrialism is 40 lines in 5 stanzas of 8 lines each. 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 long house of hate, | 6 | ······ |
| In the long hours, | 5 | ···/˘ |
| In the never-ending day; | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Over the fields—her black hair flying— | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| My mistress | 3 | ·/˘ |
| Terrible | 3 | /˘˘ |
| Gigantic | 3 | ˘/˘ |
| Gaunt and drear. | 3 | ··· |
| I've got to die—you've got to die. | 8 | ········ |
| We do not fancy your thin hands, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| That reach and reach into the vase | 8 | ········ |
| Where old things rust. | 4 | ···· |
| Death to you— | 3 | ··· |
| Now. | 1 | · |
| Thin dream of beauty, | 5 | ···/˘ |
| You be gone. | 3 | ··· |
| Our fathers in the village streets | 9 | /˘/˘··/˘· |
| Had flowing beards and they believed. | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| I saw them run into the night— | 8 | ········ |
| Crushed. | 1 | · |
| Old knowledge and all old beliefs | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| By your hand killed— | 4 | ···· |
| My mistress | 3 | ·/˘ |
| Grim. | 1 | · |
| Awake and shake thy dusty locks. | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| Come, drive the soldiers to their toil. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| A million men my mistress needs, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| To kiss | 2 | ·· |
| And kill | 2 | ·· |
| For her desire, | 5 | ··˘/˘ |
| To-night— | 2 | ·· |
| Arise. | 2 | ˘/ |
| Out of the vase the long thin hand, | 8 | ········ |
| To grip the sword that men forget | 8 | ······˘/ |
| My mistress waits beside the mill | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| To kiss the sword | 4 | ···· |
| Of Christ | 2 | ·· |
| Or you, | 2 | ·· |
| Who dare | 2 | ·· |
| For her. | 2 | ·· |
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.