Recompense
I saw two sowers in Life's field at morn,To whom came one in angel guise and said,"Is it for labour that a man is born?Lo: I am Ease. Come ye and eat my bread!"Then gladly one forsook his task undoneAnd with the Tempter went his slothful way,The other toiled until the setting sunWith stealing shadows blurred the dusty day.
Ere harvest time, upon earth's peaceful breastEach laid him down among the unreaping dead."Labour hath other recompense than rest,Else were the toiler like the fool," I said;"God meteth him not less, but rather moreBecause he sowed and others reaped his store."
Words in this poem
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- gladly adv.
- Preferably; by choice. [From Glad, a.]
- undone a.
- Not done or performed; neglected. [Pref. un- not + done.]
- tempter n.
- One who tempts or entices; especially, Satan, or the Devil, regarded as the great enticer to evil.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- toiler n.
- One who toils, or labors painfully.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Recompense is in the public domain. This text is taken from In Flanders Fields, and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #353; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John McCrae, Recompense, in In Flanders Fields, and Other Poems (1919), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #353, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/mccrae-flanders/recompense.html, id L17046.
Form and metre
Recompense is 14 lines in 2 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 29% 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 mornA · saidB · bornA · breadB · undoneC · wayD · sunC · dayD
- 2 ABABCC breastA · deadB · restA · saidB · moreC · storeC
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 saw two sowers in Life's field at morn, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| To whom came one in angel guise and said, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| "Is it for labour that a man is born? | 10 | ···/······ |
| Lo: I am Ease. Come ye and eat my bread!" | 10 | ·········· |
| Then gladly one forsook his task undone | 10 | ·/˘·˘/··˘/ |
| And with the Tempter went his slothful way, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| The other toiled until the setting sun | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| With stealing shadows blurred the dusty day. | 10 | ·/˘/···/˘· |
| Ere harvest time, upon earth's peaceful breast | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Each laid him down among the unreaping dead. | 11 | ··········· |
| "Labour hath other recompense than rest, | 10 | /··/˘/˘··· |
| Else were the toiler like the fool," I said; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| "God meteth him not less, but rather more | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Because he sowed and others reaped his store." | 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.