An Old Song Revised
John Hamilton, my Jo John,When first we were acquaintYou were as lavish as could beWith your vermillion paint;But now the head that once was redSeems veiled in sable woe,And clouds of gloom obscure your boom,John Hamilton, my Jo.
Oh, was it Campbell's hatchet wroughtThe ruin we deplore?Or was it Abnor Taylor's thirstFor your abundant gore?Or was it Hank's ambitious pranksThat laid our idol low?Come, let us know how came you so,John Hamilton, my Joe!
We pine to know the awful truth.So, pray, be pleased to tellThe story--full of tragic fire--How one great statesman fell;How dives' hand stalked in the landAnd dealt a crushing blowAt one proud name--which you're the same,John Hamilton, my Jo!
Words in this poem
- acquaint v. t.
- To furnish or give experimental knowledge of; to make (one) to know; to make familiar; -- followed by with. [OE. aqueinten, acointen, OF. acointier, LL. adcognitare, fr. L. ad + cognitus, p. p. of cognoscere to know; con- + noscere to know. See Quaint, Know.]
- veiled a.
- Covered by, or as by, a veil; hidden.
- sable n.
- A carnivorous animal of the Weasel family (Mustela zibellina) native of the northern latitudes of Europe, Asia, and America, -- noted for its fine, soft, and valuable fur. [OF. sable, F. zibeline sable (in sense 4), LL. sabellum; cf. D. sabel, Dan. sabel, zobel, Sw. sabel, sobel, G. zobel; all fr. Russ. sóbole.]
- deplore v. t.
- To feel or to express deep and poignant grief for; to bewail; to lament; to mourn; to sorrow over. [L. deplorare; de- + plorare to cry out, wail, lament; prob. akin to pluere to rain, and to E. flow: cf. F. déplorer. Cf. Flow.]
- idol n.
- An image or representation of anything. [OE. idole, F. idole, L. idolum, fr. Gr. Wit, and cf. Eidolon.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
An Old Song Revised is in the public domain. This text is taken from Hoosier Lyrics, Project Gutenberg ebook #36150; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Eugene Field, An Old Song Revised, in Hoosier Lyrics (1905), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #36150, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/field-poems/an-old-song-revised.html, id L11639.
Form and metre
An Old Song Revised is 24 lines in 3 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.1 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 38% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic trimeter.
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 john · acquaintA · be · paintA · red · woeB · boom · joB
- 2 -A-A-BBB wrought · deploreA · thirst · goreA · pranks · lowB · soB · joeB
- 3 -A-A-B-B truth · tellA · fire · fellA · land · blowB · same · joB
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 trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| John Hamilton, my Jo John, | 7 | ·/˘˘··· |
| When first we were acquaint | 6 | ····˘/ |
| You were as lavish as could be | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| With your vermillion paint; | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| But now the head that once was red | 8 | ········ |
| Seems veiled in sable woe, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And clouds of gloom obscure your boom, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| John Hamilton, my Jo. | 6 | ·/˘˘·· |
| Oh, was it Campbell's hatchet wrought | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| The ruin we deplore? | 6 | ·/˘·˘/ |
| Or was it Abnor Taylor's thirst | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| For your abundant gore? | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| Or was it Hank's ambitious pranks | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| That laid our idol low? | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Come, let us know how came you so, | 8 | ········ |
| John Hamilton, my Joe! | 6 | ·/˘˘·· |
| We pine to know the awful truth. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| So, pray, be pleased to tell | 6 | ······ |
| The story--full of tragic fire-- | 9 | ·/˘··/˘/˘ |
| How one great statesman fell; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| How dives' hand stalked in the land | 7 | ······· |
| And dealt a crushing blow | 6 | ···/˘· |
| At one proud name--which you're the same, | 8 | ········ |
| John Hamilton, my Jo! | 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.