An Appeal to My Countrywomen. 73
But hark! from our Southland are floatingSobs of anguish, murmurs of pain,And women heart-stricken are weepingOver their tortured and their slain.
On their brows the sun has left traces;Shrink not from their sorrow in scorn.When they entered the threshold of beingThe children of a King were born.
Each comes as a guest to the tableThe hand of our God has outspread,To fountains that ever leap upward,To share in the soil we all tread.
When ye plead for the wrecked and fallen,The exile from far-distant shores,Remember that men are still wastingLife's crimson around your own doors.
Have ye not, oh, my favored sisters,Just a plea, a prayer or a tear,For mothers who dwell 'neath the shadowsOf agony, hatred and fear?
Men may tread down the poor and lowly,May crush them in anger and hate,
Words in this poem
- stricken p. p.
- Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
- outspread v. t.
- To spread out; to expand; -- usually as a past part. or adj.
- dwell v. i.
- To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
An Appeal to My Countrywomen. 73 is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #679; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, An Appeal to My Countrywomen. 73, in Poems (1854–1871), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #679, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/harper-poems/an-appeal-to-my-countrywomen-73.html, id L10617.
Form and metre
An Appeal to My Countrywomen. 73 is 22 lines in 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 76%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.5 syllables. 9 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 27% 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 floating · painA · weeping · slainA
- 2 -A-A traces · scornA · being · bornA
- 3 -AAA table · outspreadA · upwardA · treadA
- 4 -A-A fallen · shoresA · wasting · doorsA
- 5 ABAB sistersA · tearB · shadowsA · fearB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| But hark! from our Southland are floating | 9 | ···//··/˘ |
| Sobs of anguish, murmurs of pain, | 8 | ··/˘/˘·· |
| And women heart-stricken are weeping | 9 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| Over their tortured and their slain. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| On their brows the sun has left traces; | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Shrink not from their sorrow in scorn. | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| When they entered the threshold of being | 9 | ··/˘·/··/ |
| The children of a King were born. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Each comes as a guest to the table | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| The hand of our God has outspread, | 8 | ···/··˘/ |
| To fountains that ever leap upward, | 9 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| To share in the soil we all tread. | 8 | ········ |
| When ye plead for the wrecked and fallen, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| The exile from far-distant shores, | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| Remember that men are still wasting | 9 | ˘/˘····/˘ |
| Life's crimson around your own doors. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Have ye not, oh, my favored sisters, | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| Just a plea, a prayer or a tear, | 8 | ········ |
| For mothers who dwell 'neath the shadows | 9 | ·/˘····/· |
| Of agony, hatred and fear? | 8 | ·/˘˘/˘·· |
| Men may tread down the poor and lowly, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| May crush them in anger and hate, | 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.