The African Chief
Chained in the market-place he stood,A man of giant frame,Amid the gathering multitudeThat shrunk to hear his name--All stern of look and strong of limb,His dark eye on the ground:--And silently they gazed on him,As on a lion bound.
Vainly, but well, that chief had fought,He was a captive now,Yet pride, that fortune humbles not,Was written on his brow.The scars his dark broad bosom wore,Showed warrior true and brave;A prince among his tribe before,He could not be a slave.
Then to his conqueror he spake--"My brother is a king;Undo this necklace from my neck,And take this bracelet ring,And send me where my brother reigns,And I will fill thy handsWith store of ivory from the plains,And gold-dust from the sands."
"Not for thy ivory nor thy goldWill I unbind thy chain;That bloody hand shall never holdThe battle-spear again.A price thy nation never gaveShall yet be paid for thee;For thou shalt be the Christian's slave,In lands beyond the sea."
Then wept the warrior chief, and badeTo shred his locks away;And one by one, each heavy braidBefore the victor lay.Thick were the platted locks, and long,And closely hidden thereShone many a wedge of gold amongThe dark and crisped hair.
"Look, feast thy greedy eye with goldLong kept for sorest need:Take it--thou askest sums untold,And say that I am freed.Take it--my wife, the long, long day,Weeps by the cocoa-tree,And my young children leave their play,And ask in vain for me."
"I take thy gold--but I have madeThy fetters fast and strong,And ween that by the cocoa shadeThy wife will wait thee long."Strong was the agony that shookThe captive's frame to hear,And the proud meaning of his lookWas changed to mortal fear.
His heart was broken--crazed his brain:At once his eye grew wild;He struggled fiercely with his chain,Whispered, and wept, and smiled;Yet wore not long those fatal bands,And once, at shut of day,They drew him forth upon the sands,The foul hyena's prey.
Words in this poem
- amid prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- humbles n.
- Entrails of a deer. Johnson. [See Nombles.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- shalt
- 2d per. sing. of Shall.
- bade
- A form of the pat tense of Bid.
- untold a.
- Not told; not related; not revealed; as, untold secrets.
- ween v. i.
- To think; to imagine; to fancy. [OE. wenen, AS. w, fr. w hope, expectation, opinion; akin to D. waan, OFries. w, OS. & OHG. wan, G. wahn delusion, Icel. van hope, expectation, Goth. w, and D. w]
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The African Chief is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by William Cullen Bryant, Project Gutenberg ebook #16341; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Cullen Bryant, The African Chief, in Poems (1821–1876), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16341, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bryant-poems/the-african-chief.html, id L07299.
Form and metre
The African Chief is 64 lines in 8 stanzas of 8 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCDCD, complete in 4 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.1 syllables. 22% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 -A-ABCBC stood · frameA · multitude · nameA · limbB · groundC · himB · boundC
- 2 -A-ABCBC fought · nowA · not · browA · woreB · braveC · beforeB · slaveC
- 3 -A-ABCBC spake · kingA · neck · ringA · reignsB · handsC · plainsB · sandsC
- 4 ABABCDCD goldA · chainB · holdA · againB · gaveC · theeD · slaveC · seaD
- 5 ABAB-C-C badeA · awayB · braidA · layB · long · thereC · among · hairC
- 6 ABABCDCD goldA · needB · untoldA · freedB · dayC · treeD · playC · meD
- 7 ABABCDCD madeA · strongB · shadeA · longB · shookC · hearD · lookC · fearD
- 8 ABABCDCD brainA · wildB · chainA · smiledB · bandsC · dayD · sandsC · preyD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Chained in the market-place he stood, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| A man of giant frame, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Amid the gathering multitude | 9 | ˘/·/˘˘/˘· |
| That shrunk to hear his name-- | 6 | ······ |
| All stern of look and strong of limb, | 8 | ········ |
| His dark eye on the ground:-- | 6 | ······ |
| And silently they gazed on him, | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| As on a lion bound. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Vainly, but well, that chief had fought, | 8 | /˘······ |
| He was a captive now, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Yet pride, that fortune humbles not, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Was written on his brow. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The scars his dark broad bosom wore, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Showed warrior true and brave; | 7 | ·/˘˘··· |
| A prince among his tribe before, | 8 | ········ |
| He could not be a slave. | 6 | ······ |
| Then to his conqueror he spake-- | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| "My brother is a king; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Undo this necklace from my neck, | 8 | ˘/·/˘··· |
| And take this bracelet ring, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And send me where my brother reigns, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And I will fill thy hands | 6 | ······ |
| With store of ivory from the plains, | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| And gold-dust from the sands." | 6 | ······ |
| "Not for thy ivory nor thy gold | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| Will I unbind thy chain; | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| That bloody hand shall never hold | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| The battle-spear again. | 6 | ·/˘·˘/ |
| A price thy nation never gave | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Shall yet be paid for thee; | 6 | ······ |
| For thou shalt be the Christian's slave, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In lands beyond the sea." | 6 | ······ |
| Then wept the warrior chief, and bade | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| To shred his locks away; | 6 | ····˘/ |
| And one by one, each heavy braid | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Before the victor lay. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Thick were the platted locks, and long, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And closely hidden there | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Shone many a wedge of gold among | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| The dark and crisped hair. | 5 | ····· |
| "Look, feast thy greedy eye with gold | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Long kept for sorest need: | 6 | ······ |
| Take it--thou askest sums untold, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| And say that I am freed. | 6 | ······ |
| Take it--my wife, the long, long day, | 8 | ········ |
| Weeps by the cocoa-tree, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And my young children leave their play, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And ask in vain for me." | 6 | ······ |
| "I take thy gold--but I have made | 8 | ········ |
| Thy fetters fast and strong, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And ween that by the cocoa shade | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Thy wife will wait thee long." | 6 | ······ |
| Strong was the agony that shook | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| The captive's frame to hear, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And the proud meaning of his look | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Was changed to mortal fear. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| His heart was broken--crazed his brain: | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| At once his eye grew wild; | 6 | ······ |
| He struggled fiercely with his chain, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Whispered, and wept, and smiled; | 6 | /˘···· |
| Yet wore not long those fatal bands, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And once, at shut of day, | 6 | ······ |
| They drew him forth upon the sands, | 8 | ········ |
| The foul hyena's prey. | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
Notes from the edition 1
William Cullen Bryant's own notes to his Poems (Project Gutenberg #16341).
- Stanza 1, line 1 The story of the African Chief, related in this ballad, may be found in the African Repository for April, 1825. The subject of it was a warrior of majestic stature, the brother of Yarradee, king of the Solima nation. He had been taken in battle, and was brought in chains for sale to the Rio Pongas, where he was exhibited in the market-place, his ankles still adorned with the massy rings of gold which he wore when captured. The refusal of his captor to listen to his offers of ransom drove him mad, and he died a maniac.
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