O Black and Unknown Bards
O black and unknown bards of long ago,How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?How, in your darkness, did you come to knowThe power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre?Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes?Who first from out the still watch, lone and long,Feeling the ancient faith of prophets riseWithin his dark-kept soul, burst into song?
Heart of what slave poured out such melodyAs "Steal away to Jesus"? On its strainsHis spirit must have nightly floated free,Though still about his hands he felt his chains.Who heard great "Jordan roll"? Whose starward eyeSaw chariot "swing low"? And who was heThat breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,"Nobody knows de trouble I see"?
What merely living clod, what captive thing,Could up toward God through all its darkness grope,And find within its deadened heart to singThese songs of sorrow, love, and faith, and hope?How did it catch that subtle undertone,That note in music heard not with the ears?How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown,Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears.
Not that great German master in his dreamOf harmonies that thundered amongst the starsAt the creation, ever heard a themeNobler than "Go down, Moses." Mark its bars,How like a mighty trumpet-call they stirThe blood. Such are the notes that men have sungGoing to valorous deeds; such tones there wereThat helped make history when Time was young.
There is a wide, wide wonder in it all,That from degraded rest and servile toilThe fiery spirit of the seer should callThese simple children of the sun and soil.O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed,You--you alone, of all the long, long lineOf those who've sung untaught, unknown, unnamed,Have stretched out upward, seeking the divine.
You sang not deeds of heroes or of kings;No chant of bloody war, no exulting peanOf arms-won triumphs; but your humble stringsYou touched in chord with music empyrean.You sang far better than you knew; the songsThat for your listeners' hungry hearts sufficedStill live,--but more than this to you belongs:You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ.
Words in this poem
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- nightly a.
- Of or pertaining to the night, or to every night; happening or done by night, or every night; as, nightly shades; he kept nightly vigils.
- jordan n.
- A pot or vessel with a large neck, formerly used by physicians and alchemists. Halliwell. [Prob. fr. the river Jordan, and shortened fr. Jordan bottle a bottle of water from the Jordan, brought back by pilgrims.]
- melodic a.
- Of the nature of melody; relating to, containing, or made up of, melody; melodious. [L. melodicus, Gr. mélodique.]
- nobody n.
- No person; no one; not anybody. [No, a. + body.]
- clod n.
- A lump or mass, especially of earth, turf, or clay. [OE. clodde, latter form of clot. See Clot.]
- undertone n.
- A low or subdued tone or utterance; a tone less loud than usual.
- elusive a.
- Tending to elude; using arts or deception to escape; adroitly escaping or evading; eluding the grasp; fallacious.
- amongst prep.
- Mixed or mingled; surrounded by. [OE. amongist, amonges, amonge, among, AS. onmang, ongemang, gemang, in a crowd or mixture. For the ending -st see Amidst. See Mingle.]
- valorous a.
- Possessing or exhibiting valor; brave; courageous; valiant; intrepid. [Cf. F. valeureux, LL. valorosus.]
- exulting a.
- Rejoicing triumphantly or exceedingly; exultant.
- pean n.
- One of the furs, the ground being sable, and the spots or tufts or. [OF. pene, F. panne.]
- empyrean n.
- The highest heaven, where the pure element of fire was supposed by the ancients to subsist. [See Empyreal.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
O Black and Unknown Bards is in the public domain. This text is taken from Fifty Years, & Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #17884; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: James Weldon Johnson, O Black and Unknown Bards, in Fifty Years and Other Poems (1917), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17884, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/johnson-fifty-years/o-black-and-unknown-bards.html, id L08288.
Form and metre
O Black and Unknown Bards is 48 lines in 6 stanzas of 8 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABABCDCD, complete in 5 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.9 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 42% 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 ABABCDCD agoA · fireB · knowA · lyreB · eyesC · longD · riseC · songD
- 2 -ABACBCB melody · strainsA · freeB · chainsA · eyeC · heB · sighC · seeB
- 3 ABABCDCD thingA · gropeB · singA · hopeB · undertoneC · earsD · blownC · tearsD
- 4 ABABCDCD dreamA · starsB · themeA · barsB · stirC · sungD · wereC · youngD
- 5 ABABCDCD allA · toilB · callA · soilB · unfamedC · lineD · unnamedC · divineD
- 6 ABABCDCD kingsA · peanB · stringsA · empyreanB · songsC · sufficedD · belongsC · christD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| O black and unknown bards of long ago, | 10 | ···˘/···˘/ |
| How came your lips to touch the sacred fire? | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| How, in your darkness, did you come to know | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre? | 10 | ·/·/˘··/˘· |
| Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes? | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| Who first from out the still watch, lone and long, | 10 | ·········· |
| Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise | 10 | /˘·/˘··/˘· |
| Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song? | 10 | ·········· |
| Heart of what slave poured out such melody | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| As "Steal away to Jesus"? On its strains | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| His spirit must have nightly floated free, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Though still about his hands he felt his chains. | 10 | ·········· |
| Who heard great "Jordan roll"? Whose starward eye | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Saw chariot "swing low"? And who was he | 10 | ·/˘˘······ |
| That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh, | 10 | ···/˘˘˘/˘· |
| "Nobody knows de trouble I see"? | 9 | /····/˘·· |
| What merely living clod, what captive thing, | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Could up toward God through all its darkness grope, | 11 | ········/˘· |
| And find within its deadened heart to sing | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| These songs of sorrow, love, and faith, and hope? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| How did it catch that subtle undertone, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| That note in music heard not with the ears? | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown, | 11 | ···˘/˘··/˘· |
| Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears. | 10 | ·········· |
| Not that great German master in his dream | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Of harmonies that thundered amongst the stars | 10 | ·/˘·/˘···· |
| At the creation, ever heard a theme | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘··· |
| Nobler than "Go down, Moses." Mark its bars, | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| How like a mighty trumpet-call they stir | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| The blood. Such are the notes that men have sung | 10 | ·········· |
| Going to valorous deeds; such tones there were | 10 | /·/˘˘····· |
| That helped make history when Time was young. | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| There is a wide, wide wonder in it all, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| That from degraded rest and servile toil | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| The fiery spirit of the seer should call | 10 | ·/˘˘/····· |
| These simple children of the sun and soil. | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/·· |
| You--you alone, of all the long, long line | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| Of those who've sung untaught, unknown, unnamed, | 10 | ······˘/˘/ |
| Have stretched out upward, seeking the divine. | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| You sang not deeds of heroes or of kings; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| No chant of bloody war, no exulting pean | 12 | ···/˘··˘/˘/˘ |
| Of arms-won triumphs; but your humble strings | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| You touched in chord with music empyrean. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| You sang far better than you knew; the songs | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| That for your listeners' hungry hearts sufficed | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| Still live,--but more than this to you belongs: | 10 | ········˘/ |
| You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ. | 10 | ·········· |
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.