Some of Farmer Stebbin's Opinions
No, Parson, 'tain't been in my style,(Nor none ov my relations)Tew dig about the gnarly rootsOv prophetic spekkleations,Tew see what Malachai meant;Or Solomon was hintin';Or reound what jog o' Futur's roadIsaiah was a-squintin'.
I've lost my rest a-keepin' outThe hogs from our cowcumbers;But never lost a wink, you bet,By wrastlin' over Numbers.I never took no comfort whenThe year was bald with losses,A-spekkleatin' on them chapsThat rode them varus hosses.
It never gave my soul a boostWhen grief an' it was matin',Tew figger out that that thar PopeWus reely twins with Satan.I took no stock in countin' upHow menny hed ov cattleFrom Egypt's ranches Moses drove;I never fit a battleOn p'ints that frequently gave riseTew pious spat an' grumble,An' makes the brethren clinch an' yellIn spiritooal rough-an'-tumble.
I never bet on Paul aginThe argyments ov Peter,I never made the good old BookA kind ov moral teeter;Tew pass a choreless hour away,An' get the evenin' over;I swallered it jest as it stood,From cover clar tew cover.
Hain't had no time tew disputate,Except with axe an' arm,With stump an' rampike and with stuns,Upon my half clar'd farm.An' when sech argyments as them--Fill six days out ov seven;A man on Sabbath wants tew crawlBy quiet ways tew heaven.
Again he gets the waggon out,An' hitches up the sorrels,An' rides ten miles tew meetin', heAin't braced for pious quarrels:No, sir, he ain't! that waggon rollsFrom corduroy to puddle,An' that thar farmer gets his brainsInter an easy muddle.
His back is stiff from six days' toil--So God takes hold an' preaches,In boughs ov rustlin' maple an'In whisperin' leaves ov beeches:Sez He tew that thar farmin' chap(Likewise tew the old woman),"I guess I'm built tew comprehendThat you an' her be's human!"
"So jest take hold on this har day,Recowperate yer muscle;Let up a mite this day on toil,'Taint made for holy bustle.Let them old sorrels jog along,With mighty slack-like traces;Half dreamin', es my sunbeams fleckTheir venerable faces.
"I guess they did their share, ov work,Since Monday's dew was hoary;Don't try tew lick 'em tew a trotUpon the road tew Glory!Jest let 'em laze a spell whar thickMy lily-buds air blowin':An' whar My trees cast shadders onMy silver creeklet flowin'.
"An' while their red, rough tongues push backThe stems ov reed an' lily,Jest let 'em dream ov them thar daysWhen they was colt an' filly,An' spekkleate, es fetlock deepThey eye my cool creek flowin',On whar I loosed it from My hand,Where be its crisp waves goin'.An' how in snow-white lily cupI built them yaller fires,An' bronz'd them reeds that rustle upAgin the waggon tires.
"An' throw a forrard eye alongWhere that bush roadway passes,A-spekkleating on the chance--Ov nibbling road-side grasses.Jest let them lines rest on thar necks--Restrain yer moral twitters--An' paste this note inside yer hat--I talk tew all My critters!
"Be they on four legs or on two,In broadcloth, scales or feathers,No matter what may be the lengthOv all their mental tethers:In ways mayn't suit the minds ov themThat thinks themselves thar betters.I talk tew them in simple style,In words ov just three letters,--Spell'd out in lily-blow an' reed,In soft winds on them blowin',In juicy grass by wayside streams,In coolin' waters flowin'.
"An' so jest let them sorrels lazeMy ripplin' silver creek in;They're listenin' in thar own dumb way,An' I--Myself--am speakin';Friend Stebbens, don't you feel your soulIn no sort ov dejection;You'll get tew meetin' quick enough,In time for the--collection."
Words in this poem 24
- gnarly a.
- Full of knots; knotty; twisted; crossgrained.
- solomon n.
- One of the kings of Israel, noted for his superior wisdom and magnificent reign; hence, a very wise man.
- rode n.
- Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
- varus n.
- A deformity in which the foot is turned inward. See Talipes.
- boost v. t.
- To lift or push from behind (one who is endeavoring to climb); to push up; hence, to assist in overcoming obstacles, or in making advancement. [Cf. Boast, v. i.]
- thar v.
- It needs; need. Piers Plowman. [OE. thar, Þarf, AS. Þearf, infin. Þurfan to need; akin to OHG. durfan, G. dürfen to be allowed, Icel. Þurfa to need, Goth. Þaúrban.]
- drove n.
- A collection of cattle driven, or cattle collected for driving; a number of animals, as oxen, sheep, or swine, driven in a body. [AS. draf, fr. drifan to drive. See Drive.]
- spat n.
- A young oyster or other bivalve mollusk, both before and after it first becomes adherent, or such young, collectively. [From the root of spit; hence, literally, that which is ejected.]
- grumble v. i.
- To murmur or mutter with discontent; to make ill-natured complaints in a low voice and a surly manner. [Cf. LG. grummeln, grumman, D. grommelen, grommen, and F. grommeler, of German origin; cf. W. grwm, murmur, grumble, surly. sq. root35. Cf. Grum, Grim.]
- teeter v. i.
- To move up and down on the ends of a balanced plank, or the like, as children do for sport; to seesaw; to titter; to titter- totter. [U. S.] [Prov. E. titter to tremble, to seesaw; cf. Icel. titra to tremble, OHG. zittaron, G. zittern.]
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
- crawl v. i.
- To move slowly by drawing the body along the ground, as a worm; to move slowly on hands and kness; to creep. [Dan. kravle, or Icel. krafla, to paw, scrabble with the hands; akin to Sw. kr to crawl; cf. LG. krabbeln, D. krabbelen to scratch.]
- corduroy n.
- A sort of cotton velveteen, having the surface raised in ridges. [Prob. for F. corde du roi king's cord.]
- muddle v. t.
- To make turbid, or muddy, as water. [From Mud.]
- fleck n.
- A flake; also, a lock, as of wool. J. Martin.
- hoary a.
- White or whitish."The hoary willows."
- laze v. i.
- To be lazy or idle. Middleton. [See Lazy.]
- filly n.
- A female foal or colt; a young mare. Cf. Colt, Foal. [Cf. Icel. fylia, fr. foli foal. See Foal.]
- fetlock n.
- The cushionlike projection, bearing a tuft of long hair, on the back side of the leg above the hoof of the horse and similar animals. [OE. fetlak, fitlock, cf. Icel. fet pace, step, fit webbed foot of water birds, akin to E. foot. sq. root 77. See Foot.]
- rustle v. i.
- To make a quick succession of small sounds, like the rubbing or moving of silk cloth or dry leaves. [AS. hristlan to rustle; or cf. Sw. rusta to stir, make a riot, or E. rush, v.]
- roadway n.
- A road; especially, the part traveled by carriages.
- broadcloth n.
- A fine smooth-faced woolen cloth for men's garments, usually of double width (i.e., a yard and a half); -- so called in distinction from woolens three quarters of a yard wide.
- wayside n.
- The side of the way; the edge or border of a road or path.
- dejection n.
- A casting down; depression. Hallywell. [L. dejectio a casting down: cf. F. déjection.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Some of Farmer Stebbin's Opinions is in the public domain. This text is taken from Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie, and other poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #6815; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Isabella Valancy Crawford, Some of Farmer Stebbin's Opinions, in Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie and Other Poems (1884), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6815, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/crawford-poems/some-of-farmer-stebbin-s-opinions.html, id L11178.
Form and metre
Some of Farmer Stebbin's Opinions is 116 lines in 13 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.5 syllables. 43 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 29% 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-A-B-B style · relationsA · roots · spekkleationsA · meant · hintinB · road · squintinB
- 2 -A-A---- out · cowcumbersA · bet · numbersA · when · losses · chaps · hosses
- 3 -----A-A-BAB boost · matin · pope · satan · up · cattleA · drove · battleA · rise · grumbleB · yellA · tumbleB
- 4 -A-A---- agin · peterA · book · teeterA · away · over · stood · cover
- 5 -A-A-B-B disputate · armA · stuns · farmA · them · sevenB · crawl · heavenB
- 6 -A-AAB-B out · sorrelsA · he · quarrelsA · rollsA · puddleB · brains · muddleB
- 7 -ABA-B-- toil · preachesA · anB · beechesA · chap · womanB · comprehend · human
- 8 -AAA-B-B day · muscleA · toilA · bustleA · along · tracesB · fleck · facesB
- 9 -A-A-B-B work · hoaryA · trot · gloryA · thick · blowinB · on · flowinB
- 10 -A-A----BCBC back · lilyA · days · fillyA · deep · flowin · hand · goin · cupB · firesC · upB · tiresC
- 11 -A-A-B-B along · passesA · chance · grassesA · necks · twittersB · hat · crittersB
- 12 -A-A-B-B-C-C two · feathersA · length · tethersA · them · bettersB · style · lettersB · reed · blowinC · streams · flowinC
- 13 -----A-A laze · in · way · speakin · soul · dejectionA · enough · collectionA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| No, Parson, 'tain't been in my style, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| (Nor none ov my relations) | 7 | ····˘/˘ |
| Tew dig about the gnarly roots | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Ov prophetic spekkleations, | 7 | ·˘/˘··· |
| Tew see what Malachai meant; | 7 | ······· |
| Or Solomon was hintin'; | 7 | ·/˘˘··· |
| Or reound what jog o' Futur's road | 8 | ········ |
| Isaiah was a-squintin'. | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| I've lost my rest a-keepin' out | 8 | ········ |
| The hogs from our cowcumbers; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| But never lost a wink, you bet, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| By wrastlin' over Numbers. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| I never took no comfort when | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| The year was bald with losses, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| A-spekkleatin' on them chaps | 7 | ······· |
| That rode them varus hosses. | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| It never gave my soul a boost | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| When grief an' it was matin', | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Tew figger out that that thar Pope | 8 | ········ |
| Wus reely twins with Satan. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| I took no stock in countin' up | 8 | ········ |
| How menny hed ov cattle | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| From Egypt's ranches Moses drove; | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| I never fit a battle | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| On p'ints that frequently gave rise | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| Tew pious spat an' grumble, | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| An' makes the brethren clinch an' yell | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| In spiritooal rough-an'-tumble. | 8 | ······/˘ |
| I never bet on Paul agin | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| The argyments ov Peter, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| I never made the good old Book | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| A kind ov moral teeter; | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Tew pass a choreless hour away, | 9 | ······/˘/ |
| An' get the evenin' over; | 8 | ········ |
| I swallered it jest as it stood, | 8 | ········ |
| From cover clar tew cover. | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| Hain't had no time tew disputate, | 8 | ········ |
| Except with axe an' arm, | 6 | ······ |
| With stump an' rampike and with stuns, | 8 | ········ |
| Upon my half clar'd farm. | 6 | ······ |
| An' when sech argyments as them-- | 8 | ········ |
| Fill six days out ov seven; | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| A man on Sabbath wants tew crawl | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| By quiet ways tew heaven. | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| Again he gets the waggon out, | 8 | ˘/······ |
| An' hitches up the sorrels, | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| An' rides ten miles tew meetin', he | 8 | ········ |
| Ain't braced for pious quarrels: | 8 | ··˘·/˘/˘ |
| No, sir, he ain't! that waggon rolls | 8 | ········ |
| From corduroy to puddle, | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| An' that thar farmer gets his brains | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Inter an easy muddle. | 7 | ˘/·/˘/˘ |
| His back is stiff from six days' toil-- | 8 | ········ |
| So God takes hold an' preaches, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| In boughs ov rustlin' maple an' | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In whisperin' leaves ov beeches: | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Sez He tew that thar farmin' chap | 8 | ········ |
| (Likewise tew the old woman), | 7 | /····/˘ |
| "I guess I'm built tew comprehend | 8 | ······˘/ |
| That you an' her be's human!" | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| "So jest take hold on this har day, | 8 | ········ |
| Recowperate yer muscle; | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Let up a mite this day on toil, | 8 | ········ |
| 'Taint made for holy bustle. | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Let them old sorrels jog along, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| With mighty slack-like traces; | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| Half dreamin', es my sunbeams fleck | 8 | ·····/·· |
| Their venerable faces. | 7 | ·/˘˘˘/˘ |
| "I guess they did their share, ov work, | 8 | ········ |
| Since Monday's dew was hoary; | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| Don't try tew lick 'em tew a trot | 8 | ········ |
| Upon the road tew Glory! | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Jest let 'em laze a spell whar thick | 8 | ········ |
| My lily-buds air blowin': | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| An' whar My trees cast shadders on | 8 | ········ |
| My silver creeklet flowin'. | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| "An' while their red, rough tongues push back | 8 | ········ |
| The stems ov reed an' lily, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Jest let 'em dream ov them thar days | 8 | ········ |
| When they was colt an' filly, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| An' spekkleate, es fetlock deep | 7 | ····/˘· |
| They eye my cool creek flowin', | 7 | ······· |
| On whar I loosed it from My hand, | 8 | ········ |
| Where be its crisp waves goin'. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| An' how in snow-white lily cup | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I built them yaller fires, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| An' bronz'd them reeds that rustle up | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Agin the waggon tires. | 7 | ˘/···/˘ |
| "An' throw a forrard eye along | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Where that bush roadway passes, | 7 | ···/·/˘ |
| A-spekkleating on the chance-- | 7 | ······· |
| Ov nibbling road-side grasses. | 8 | ·/˘˘··/˘ |
| Jest let them lines rest on thar necks-- | 8 | ········ |
| Restrain yer moral twitters-- | 7 | ˘/·/˘·· |
| An' paste this note inside yer hat-- | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| I talk tew all My critters! | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| "Be they on four legs or on two, | 8 | ········ |
| In broadcloth, scales or feathers, | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| No matter what may be the length | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Ov all their mental tethers: | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| In ways mayn't suit the minds ov them | 8 | ········ |
| That thinks themselves thar betters. | 7 | ··˘/·/˘ |
| I talk tew them in simple style, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In words ov just three letters,-- | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Spell'd out in lily-blow an' reed, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| In soft winds on them blowin', | 7 | ······· |
| In juicy grass by wayside streams, | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| In coolin' waters flowin'. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| "An' so jest let them sorrels laze | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| My ripplin' silver creek in; | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| They're listenin' in thar own dumb way, | 9 | ········· |
| An' I--Myself--am speakin'; | 7 | ···/··· |
| Friend Stebbens, don't you feel your soul | 8 | ········ |
| In no sort ov dejection; | 7 | ····˘/˘ |
| You'll get tew meetin' quick enough, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| In time for the--collection." | 7 | ····˘/˘ |
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