The Lesson
My cot was down by a cypress grove,And I sat by my window the whole night long,And heard well up from the deep dark woodA mocking-bird's passionate song.
And I thought of myself so sad and lone,And my life's cold winter that knew no spring;Of my mind so weary and sick and wild,Of my heart too sad to sing.
But e'en as I listened the mock-bird's song,A thought stole into my saddened heart,And I said, "I can cheer some other soulBy a carol's simple art."
For oft from the darkness of hearts and livesCome songs that brim with joy and light,As out of the gloom of the cypress groveThe mocking-bird sings at night.
So I sang a lay for a brother's earIn a strain to soothe his bleeding heart,And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre,Though mine was a feeble art.
But at his smile I smiled in turn,And into my soul there came a ray:In trying to soothe another's woesMine own had passed away.
Words in this poem
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- stole n.
- A long, loose garment reaching to the feet. [AS. stole, L. stola, Gr. stall. See Stall.]
- soothe v. t.
- To assent to as true. Testament of Love. [Originally, to assent to as true; OE. so to verify, AS. ges to prove the truth of, to bear witness. See Sooth, a.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Lesson 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, The Lesson, in The Complete Poems (1893–1905), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #18338, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/dunbar-poems/the-lesson.html, id L00487.
Form and metre
The Lesson is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 80%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.0 syllables. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
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 grove · longA · wood · songA
- 2 -A-A lone · springA · wild · singA
- 3 -A-A song · heartA · soul · artA
- 4 -A-A lives · lightA · grove · nightA
- 5 -A-A ear · heartA · lyre · artA
- 6 -A-A turn · rayA · woes · awayA
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| My cot was down by a cypress grove, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| And I sat by my window the whole night long, | 11 | ·····/˘···· |
| And heard well up from the deep dark wood | 9 | ········· |
| A mocking-bird's passionate song. | 8 | ·/˘·/˘˘· |
| And I thought of myself so sad and lone, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| And my life's cold winter that knew no spring; | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Of my mind so weary and sick and wild, | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Of my heart too sad to sing. | 7 | ······· |
| But e'en as I listened the mock-bird's song, | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| A thought stole into my saddened heart, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| And I said, "I can cheer some other soul | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| By a carol's simple art." | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| For oft from the darkness of hearts and lives | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Come songs that brim with joy and light, | 8 | ········ |
| As out of the gloom of the cypress grove | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| The mocking-bird sings at night. | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| So I sang a lay for a brother's ear | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| In a strain to soothe his bleeding heart, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre, | 11 | ··········· |
| Though mine was a feeble art. | 7 | ····/˘· |
| But at his smile I smiled in turn, | 8 | ········ |
| And into my soul there came a ray: | 9 | ········· |
| In trying to soothe another's woes | 9 | ·/˘··˘/˘· |
| Mine own had passed away. | 7 | ····˘˘/ |
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.