Bert Kessler
I winged my bird,Though he flew toward the setting sun;But just as the shot rang out, he soaredUp and up through the splinters of golden light,Till he turned right over, feathers ruffled,With some of the down of him floating near,And fell like a plummet into the grass.I tramped about, parting the tangles,Till I saw a splash of blood on a stump,And the quail lying close to the rotten roots.I reached my hand, but saw no brier,But something pricked and stung and numbed it.And then, in a second, I spied the rattler—The shutters wide in his yellow eyes,The head of him arched, sunk back in the rings of him,A circle of filth, the color of ashes,Or oak leaves bleached under layers of leaves.I stood like a stone as he shrank and uncoiledAnd started to crawl beneath the stump,When I fell limp in the grass.
Words in this poem
- plummet n.
- A piece of lead attached to a line, used in sounding the depth of water. [OE. plommet, OF. plommet, fr. plom, plum, lead, F. plomb. See Plumb.]
- brier n.
- A plant with a slender woody stem bearing stout prickles; especially, species of Rosa, Rubus, and Smilax. [OE. brere, brer, AS. brer, brær; cf. Ir. briar prickle, thorn, brier, pin, Gael. preas bush, brier, W. prys, prysg.]
- rattler n.
- One who, or that which, rattles.
- bleached a.
- Whitened; make white.
- crawl v. i.
- To move slowly by drawing the body along the ground, as a worm; to move slowly on hands and kness; to creep. [Dan. kravle, or Icel. krafla, to paw, scrabble with the hands; akin to Sw. kr to crawl; cf. LG. krabbeln, D. krabbelen to scratch.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Bert Kessler is in the public domain. This text is taken from Spoon River Anthology, Project Gutenberg ebook #1280; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Edgar Lee Masters, Bert Kessler, in Spoon River Anthology (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1280, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/masters-spoon-river/bert-kessler.html, id L07864.
Form and metre
Bert Kessler is 20 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 74%). 86% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.6 syllables. 5 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 10% 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-B----C-C--BA bird · sun · soared · light · ruffled · near · grassA · tangles · stumpB · roots · brier · it · rattler · eyesC · him · ashesC · leaves · uncoiled · stumpB · grassA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| I winged my bird, | 4 | ···· |
| Though he flew toward the setting sun; | 9 | ······/˘· |
| But just as the shot rang out, he soared | 9 | ········· |
| Up and up through the splinters of golden light, | 11 | ·····/˘·/˘· |
| Till he turned right over, feathers ruffled, | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| With some of the down of him floating near, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And fell like a plummet into the grass. | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| I tramped about, parting the tangles, | 9 | ····/˘·/˘ |
| Till I saw a splash of blood on a stump, | 10 | ·········· |
| And the quail lying close to the rotten roots. | 11 | ···/˘···/˘· |
| I reached my hand, but saw no brier, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| But something pricked and stung and numbed it. | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| And then, in a second, I spied the rattler— | 12 | ····/˘···/˘˘ |
| The shutters wide in his yellow eyes, | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| The head of him arched, sunk back in the rings of him, | 12 | ············ |
| A circle of filth, the color of ashes, | 11 | ·/˘···/˘·/˘ |
| Or oak leaves bleached under layers of leaves. | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| I stood like a stone as he shrank and uncoiled | 11 | ··········/ |
| And started to crawl beneath the stump, | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| When I fell limp in the grass. | 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.