Pagan Prayer
Not for myself I make this prayer,But for this race of mineThat stretches forth from shadowed placesDark hands for bread and wine.
For me, my heart is pagan mad,My feet are never still,But give them hearths to keep them warmIn homes high on a hill.
For me, my faith lies fallowing,I bow not till I see,But these are humble and believe;Bless their credulity.
For me, I pay my debts in kind,And see no better way,Bless these who turn the other cheekFor love of you, and pray.
Our Father, God, our Brother, Christ--So are we taught to pray;Their kinship seems a little thingWho sorrow all the day.
Our Father, God; our Brother, Christ,Or are we bastard kin,That to our plaints your ears are closed,Your doors barred from within?
Our Father, God; our Brother, Christ,Retrieve my race again;So shall you compass this black sheep,This pagan heart. Amen.
Words in this poem
- kinship n.
- Family relationship.
- retrieve n.
- A seeking again; a discovery. B. Jonson.
- 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,]
- amen interj.
- An expression used at the end of prayers, and meaning, So be it. At the end of a creed, it is a solemn asseveration of belief. [L. amen, Gr. am certainly, truly.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Pagan Prayer is in the public domain. This text is taken from Color, Project Gutenberg ebook #70543; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Countee Cullen, Pagan Prayer, in Color (1925), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #70543, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/cullen-color/pagan-prayer.html, id L01430.
Form and metre
Pagan Prayer is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.1 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 18% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in common measure.
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 prayer · mineA · places · wineA
- 2 -A-A mad · stillA · warm · hillA
- 4 -A-A kind · wayA · cheek · prayA
- 5 -A-A christ · prayA · thing · dayA
- 6 -A-A christ · kinA · closed · withinA
- 7 -A-A christ · againA · sheep · amenA
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 common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Not for myself I make this prayer, | 8 | ···/···· |
| But for this race of mine | 6 | ······ |
| That stretches forth from shadowed places | 9 | ·/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Dark hands for bread and wine. | 6 | ······ |
| For me, my heart is pagan mad, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| My feet are never still, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| But give them hearths to keep them warm | 8 | ········ |
| In homes high on a hill. | 6 | ······ |
| For me, my faith lies fallowing, | 8 | ·····/·˘ |
| I bow not till I see, | 6 | ······ |
| But these are humble and believe; | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Bless their credulity. | 6 | ··˘/˘˘ |
| For me, I pay my debts in kind, | 8 | ········ |
| And see no better way, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Bless these who turn the other cheek | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| For love of you, and pray. | 6 | ······ |
| Our Father, God, our Brother, Christ-- | 8 | //˘·//˘· |
| So are we taught to pray; | 6 | ······ |
| Their kinship seems a little thing | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| Who sorrow all the day. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Our Father, God; our Brother, Christ, | 8 | //˘·//˘· |
| Or are we bastard kin, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| That to our plaints your ears are closed, | 8 | ··/····· |
| Your doors barred from within? | 7 | ···˘··· |
| Our Father, God; our Brother, Christ, | 8 | //˘·//˘· |
| Retrieve my race again; | 6 | ˘/··˘/ |
| So shall you compass this black sheep, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| This pagan heart. Amen. | 6 | ·/˘·˘/ |
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.