A Thanksgiving Poem
The sun hath shed its kindly light,Our harvesting is gladly o'erOur fields have felt no killing blight,Our bins are filled with goodly store.
From pestilence, fire, flood, and swordWe have been spared by thy decree,And now with humble hearts, O Lord,We come to pay our thanks to thee.
We feel that had our merits beenThe measure of thy gifts to us,We erring children, born of sin,Might not now be rejoicing thus.
No deed of ours hath brought us grace;When thou were nigh our sight was dull,We hid in trembling from thy face,But thou, O God, wert merciful.
Thy mighty hand o'er all the landHath still been open to bestowThose blessings which our wants demandFrom heaven, whence all blessings flow.
Thou hast, with ever watchful eye,Looked down on us with holy care,And from thy storehouse in the skyHast scattered plenty everywhere.
Then lift we up our songs of praiseTo thee, O Father, good and kind;To thee we consecrate our days;Be thine the temple of each mind.
With incense sweet our thanks ascend;Before thy works our powers pall;Though we should strive years without end,We could not thank thee for them all.
Words in this poem
- gladly adv.
- Preferably; by choice. [From Glad, a.]
- goodly a.
- Pleasant; agreeable; desirable. [OE. godlich, AS. g. See Good, and Like.]
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- thank n.
- A expression of gratitude; an acknowledgment expressive of a sense of favor or kindness received; obligation, claim, or desert, or gratitude; -- now generally used in the plural. [AS. Þanc, Þonc, thanks, favor, thought; akin to OS. thank favor, pleasure, thanks, D. & G. dank thanks, Icel. Þ\'94kk, Dan. tak, Sw. tack, Goth. Þagks thanks; -]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Thanksgiving Poem is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar, Project Gutenberg ebook #18338; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Paul Laurence Dunbar, A Thanksgiving Poem, in The Complete Poems (1893–1905), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #18338, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/dunbar-poems/a-thanksgiving-poem.html, id L00888.
Form and metre
A Thanksgiving Poem is 32 lines in 8 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 7 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 90% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% 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- lightA · o'er · blightA · store
- 2 ABAB swordA · decreeB · lordA · theeB
- 3 ABAB beenA · usB · sinA · thusB
- 4 ABAB graceA · dullB · faceA · mercifulB
- 5 ABAB landA · bestowB · demandA · flowB
- 6 ABAB eyeA · careB · skyA · everywhereB
- 7 ABAB praiseA · kindB · daysA · mindB
- 8 ABAB ascendA · pallB · endA · allB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| The sun hath shed its kindly light, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Our harvesting is gladly o'er | 8 | //˘˘·/˘· |
| Our fields have felt no killing blight, | 8 | /····/˘· |
| Our bins are filled with goodly store. | 8 | /····/˘· |
| From pestilence, fire, flood, and sword | 8 | ·/˘˘/··· |
| We have been spared by thy decree, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| And now with humble hearts, O Lord, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| We come to pay our thanks to thee. | 8 | ····/··· |
| We feel that had our merits been | 8 | ····//˘· |
| The measure of thy gifts to us, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| We erring children, born of sin, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Might not now be rejoicing thus. | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| No deed of ours hath brought us grace; | 8 | ···/···· |
| When thou were nigh our sight was dull, | 8 | ····/··· |
| We hid in trembling from thy face, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| But thou, O God, wert merciful. | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Thy mighty hand o'er all the land | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Hath still been open to bestow | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| Those blessings which our wants demand | 8 | ·/˘·/·˘/ |
| From heaven, whence all blessings flow. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Thou hast, with ever watchful eye, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Looked down on us with holy care, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And from thy storehouse in the sky | 8 | ···/···· |
| Hast scattered plenty everywhere. | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| Then lift we up our songs of praise | 8 | ····/··· |
| To thee, O Father, good and kind; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| To thee we consecrate our days; | 8 | ···/˘·/· |
| Be thine the temple of each mind. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| With incense sweet our thanks ascend; | 8 | ·/··/·˘/ |
| Before thy works our powers pall; | 8 | ····//˘· |
| Though we should strive years without end, | 8 | ········ |
| We could not thank thee for them all. | 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.