Flame-Heart
So much have I forgotten in ten years,So much in ten brief years! I have forgotWhat time the purple apples come to juice,And what month brings the shy forget-me-not.I have forgot the special, startling seasonOf the pimento’s flowering and fruiting;What time of year the ground doves brown the fieldsAnd fill the noonday with their curious fluting.I have forgotten much, but still rememberThe poinsettia’s red, blood-red in warm December.
I still recall the honey-fever grass,But cannot recollect the high days whenWe rooted them out of the ping-wing pathTo stop the mad bees in the rabbit pen.I often try to think in what sweet monthThe languid painted ladies used to dappleThe yellow by-road mazing from the main,Sweet with the golden threads of the rose-apple.I have forgotten--strange--but quite rememberThe poinsettia’s red, blood-red in warm December.
What weeks, what months, what time of the mild yearWe cheated school to have our fling at tops?What days our wine-thrilled bodies pulsed with joyFeasting upon blackberries in the copse?Oh some I know! I have embalmed the days,Even the sacred moments when we played,All innocent of passion, uncorrupt,At noon and evening in the flame-heart’s shade.We were so happy, happy, I remember,Beneath the poinsettia’s red in warm December.
Words in this poem
- fruiting a.
- Pertaining to, or producing, fruit.
- noonday n.
- Midday; twelve o'clock in the day; noon.
- curious a.
- Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
- recollect v. t.
- To recover or recall the knowledge of; to bring back to the mind or memory; to remember. [Pref. re- + collect: cf. L. recolligere, recollectum, to collect. Cf. Recollet.]
- dapple n.
- One of the spots on a dappled animal. [Cf. Icel. depill a spot, a dot, a dog with spots over the eyes, dapi a pool, and E. dimple.]
- copse n.
- A wood of small growth; a thicket of brushwood. See Coppice. [Contr. from coppice.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Flame-Heart is in the public domain. This text is taken from Harlem shadows, Project Gutenberg ebook #64989; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Claude McKay, Flame-Heart, in Harlem Shadows (1922), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #64989, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/mckay-harlem-shadows/flame-heart.html, id L01339.
Form and metre
Flame-Heart is 30 lines in 3 stanzas of 10 lines each. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.5 syllables. 11 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 37% 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-A-B-BCC years · forgotA · juice · notA · season · fruitingB · fields · flutingB · rememberC · decemberC
- 2 -A-A-B-BCC grass · whenA · path · penA · month · dappleB · main · appleB · rememberC · decemberC
- 3 -A-A-B-BCC year · topsA · joy · copseA · days · playedB · uncorrupt · shadeB · rememberC · decemberC
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 |
|---|---|---|
| So much have I forgotten in ten years, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| So much in ten brief years! I have forgot | 10 | ········˘/ |
| What time the purple apples come to juice, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| And what month brings the shy forget-me-not. | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| I have forgot the special, startling season | 11 | ··˘/·/˘/˘/˘ |
| Of the pimento’s flowering and fruiting; | 11 | ·····/˘˘·/˘ |
| What time of year the ground doves brown the fields | 10 | ·········· |
| And fill the noonday with their curious fluting. | 11 | ···/˘··/˘/˘ |
| I have forgotten much, but still remember | 11 | ··˘/˘···˘/˘ |
| The poinsettia’s red, blood-red in warm December. | 12 | ·˘/˘·····˘/˘ |
| I still recall the honey-fever grass, | 10 | ··˘/·/˘/˘· |
| But cannot recollect the high days when | 10 | ·/˘·˘/···· |
| We rooted them out of the ping-wing path | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| To stop the mad bees in the rabbit pen. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| I often try to think in what sweet month | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| The languid painted ladies used to dapple | 11 | ·/˘/˘/˘··/˘ |
| The yellow by-road mazing from the main, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Sweet with the golden threads of the rose-apple. | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| I have forgotten--strange--but quite remember | 11 | ··˘/˘···˘/˘ |
| The poinsettia’s red, blood-red in warm December. | 12 | ·˘/˘·····˘/˘ |
| What weeks, what months, what time of the mild year | 10 | ·········· |
| We cheated school to have our fling at tops? | 10 | ·/˘···/··· |
| What days our wine-thrilled bodies pulsed with joy | 10 | ··/··/˘··· |
| Feasting upon blackberries in the copse? | 10 | /˘··/·˘··· |
| Oh some I know! I have embalmed the days, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Even the sacred moments when we played, | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| All innocent of passion, uncorrupt, | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘··· |
| At noon and evening in the flame-heart’s shade. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| We were so happy, happy, I remember, | 11 | ···/˘/˘·˘/˘ |
| Beneath the poinsettia’s red in warm December. | 12 | ···˘/˘···˘/˘ |
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.