Dorcas Gustine
I was not beloved of the villagers,But all because I spoke my mind,And met those who transgressed against meWith plain remonstrance, hiding nor nurturingNor secret griefs nor grudges.That act of the Spartan boy is greatly praised,Who hid the wolf under his cloak,Letting it devour him, uncomplainingly.It is braver, I think, to snatch the wolf forthAnd fight him openly, even in the street,Amid dust and howls of pain.The tongue may be an unruly member—But silence poisons the soul.Berate me who will—I am content.
Words in this poem
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- remonstrance n.
- The act of remonstrating; as: (a) A pointing out; manifestation; proof; demonstration. [Cf. OF. remonstrance, F. remonstrance. See Remonstrate.]
- amid prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- berate v. t.
- To rate or chide vehemently; to scold. Holland. Motley.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Dorcas Gustine 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, Dorcas Gustine, in Spoon River Anthology (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1280, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/masters-spoon-river/dorcas-gustine.html, id L07781.
Form and metre
Dorcas Gustine is 14 lines in a single verse paragraph. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 79%). 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.4 syllables. 5 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 21% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter, other poems in blank verse.
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.
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 was not beloved of the villagers, | 10 | ···˘/··/˘˘ |
| But all because I spoke my mind, | 8 | ········ |
| And met those who transgressed against me | 9 | ····˘/··· |
| With plain remonstrance, hiding nor nurturing | 11 | ··˘/˘/˘·/˘˘ |
| Nor secret griefs nor grudges. | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| That act of the Spartan boy is greatly praised, | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| Who hid the wolf under his cloak, | 8 | ········ |
| Letting it devour him, uncomplainingly. | 12 | /˘·˘/˘······ |
| It is braver, I think, to snatch the wolf forth | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| And fight him openly, even in the street, | 11 | ···/˘˘/˘··· |
| Amid dust and howls of pain. | 7 | ˘/····· |
| The tongue may be an unruly member— | 10 | ·····˘/˘/˘ |
| But silence poisons the soul. | 7 | ·/˘/˘·· |
| Berate me who will—I am content. | 9 | ˘/·····/˘ |
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.