An Exile
'Tis the census enumeratorA-singing all forlorn:It's ho! for the tall potater,And ho! for the clustered corn.The whiffle-tree bends in the breeze and the fineLarge eggs are a-ripening on the vine.
"Some there must be to till the soilAnd the widow's weeds keep down.I wasn't cut out for rural toilBut they won't let me live in town!They 're not so many by two or three,As they think, but ah! they 're too many for me."
Thus the census man, bowed down with care,Warbled his wood-note high.There was blood on his brow and blood in his hair,But he had no blood in his eye.
Words in this poem
- census n.
- A numbering of the people, and valuation of their estate, for the purpose of imposing taxes, etc.; -- usually made once in five years. [L. census, fr. censere. See Censor.]
- enumerator n.
- One who enumerates.
- forlorn a.
- Deserted abandoned; lost. [OE., p.p. of forlesen to lose utterly, AS. forleósan (p.p. forloren); pref. for- + leósan (in comp.) to lose; cf. D. verliezen to lose, G. verlieren, Sw. förlor]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
An Exile is in the public domain. This text is taken from Shapes of Clay (1903), Project Gutenberg ebook #12658; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ambrose Bierce, An Exile, in Shapes of Clay (1903), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #12658, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bierce-shapes-of-clay/an-exile.html, id L28125.
Form and metre
An Exile is 16 lines in 3 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABABCC, complete in 2 of its 3 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 75%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCC enumeratorA · forlornB · potaterA · cornB · fineC · vineC
- 2 ABABCC soilA · downB · toilA · townB · threeC · meC
- 3 ABAB careA · highB · hairA · eyeB
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| 'Tis the census enumerator | 8 | ··/˘˘/˘˘ |
| A-singing all forlorn: | 6 | ·/˘·˘/ |
| It's ho! for the tall potater, | 8 | ········ |
| And ho! for the clustered corn. | 7 | ····/˘· |
| The whiffle-tree bends in the breeze and the fine | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| Large eggs are a-ripening on the vine. | 10 | ····/˘˘··· |
| "Some there must be to till the soil | 8 | ········ |
| And the widow's weeds keep down. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| I wasn't cut out for rural toil | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| But they won't let me live in town! | 8 | ········ |
| They 're not so many by two or three, | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| As they think, but ah! they 're too many for me." | 11 | ········/·· |
| Thus the census man, bowed down with care, | 10 | ··/˘··˘··· |
| Warbled his wood-note high. | 6 | /˘···· |
| There was blood on his brow and blood in his hair, | 11 | ··········· |
| But he had no blood in his eye. | 8 | ········ |
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.