Zilpha Marsh
At four o’clock in late OctoberI sat alone in the country school-houseBack from the road, mid stricken fields,And an eddy of wind blew leaves on the pane,And crooned in the flue of the cannon-stove,With its open door blurring the shadowsWith the spectral glow of a dying fire.In an idle mood I was running the planchette—All at once my wrist grew limp,And my hand moved rapidly over the board,’Till the name of “Charles Guiteau” was spelled,Who threatened to materialize before me.I rose and fled from the room bare-headedInto the dusk, afraid of my gift.And after that the spirits swarmed—Chaucer, Caesar, Poe and Marlowe,Cleopatra and Mrs. Surratt—Wherever I went, with messages,—Mere trifling twaddle, Spoon River agreed.You talk nonsense to children, don’t you?And suppose I see what you never sawAnd never heard of and have no word for,I must talk nonsense when you ask meWhat it is I see!
Words in this poem
- stricken p. p.
- Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
- pane n.
- The narrow edge of a hammer head. See Peen. [F. panne.]
- planchette n.
- A circumferentor. See Circumferentor. [F. See Planchet.]
- materialize v. t.
- To invest wich material characteristics; to make perceptible to the senses; hence, to present to the mind through the medium of material objects. [Cf. F. matérialiser.]
- wherever adv.
- At or in whatever place; wheresoever.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Zilpha Marsh 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, Zilpha Marsh, in Spoon River Anthology (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1280, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/masters-spoon-river/zilpha-marsh.html, id L07953.
Form and metre
Zilpha Marsh is 24 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 74%). 82% 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. 25% 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.
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----------AA october · house · fields · pane · stove · shadows · fire · planchette · limp · board · spelled · meA · headed · gift · swarmed · marlowe · surratt · messages · agreed · you · saw · for · meA · seeA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| At four o’clock in late October | 9 | ··˘/··˘/˘ |
| I sat alone in the country school-house | 10 | ··˘/··/˘·· |
| Back from the road, mid stricken fields, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And an eddy of wind blew leaves on the pane, | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| And crooned in the flue of the cannon-stove, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| With its open door blurring the shadows | 10 | ··/˘·/˘·/· |
| With the spectral glow of a dying fire. | 11 | ··/˘···/˘/˘ |
| In an idle mood I was running the planchette— | 12 | ··/˘···/˘··· |
| All at once my wrist grew limp, | 7 | ······· |
| And my hand moved rapidly over the board, | 11 | ····/˘˘···· |
| ’Till the name of “Charles Guiteau” was spelled, | 9 | ········· |
| Who threatened to materialize before me. | 12 | ·/˘·˘/˘˘···· |
| I rose and fled from the room bare-headed | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Into the dusk, afraid of my gift. | 9 | ····˘/··· |
| And after that the spirits swarmed— | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Chaucer, Caesar, Poe and Marlowe, | 8 | /˘/˘··/· |
| Cleopatra and Mrs. Surratt— | 9 | ·˘/˘·/˘/˘ |
| Wherever I went, with messages,— | 9 | ˘/˘···/˘˘ |
| Mere trifling twaddle, Spoon River agreed. | 10 | ·/˘/˘·/˘˘/ |
| You talk nonsense to children, don’t you? | 9 | ··/˘·/˘·· |
| And suppose I see what you never saw | 10 | ·˘/····/˘· |
| And never heard of and have no word for, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| I must talk nonsense when you ask me | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| What it is I see! | 5 | ····· |
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.