Song of the Son
Pour O pour that parting soul in song,O pour it in the sawdust glow of night,Into the velvet pine-smoke air to-night,And let the valley carry it along.And let the valley carry it along.
O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree,So scant of grass, so profligate of pines,Now just before an epoch’s sun declinesThy son, in time, I have returned to thee,Thy son, I have in time returned to thee.
In time, for though the sun is setting onA song-lit race of slaves, it has not set;Though late, O soil, it is not too late yetTo catch thy plaintive soul, leaving, soon gone,Leaving, to catch thy plaintive soul soon gone.
O Negro slaves, dark purple ripened plums,Squeezed, and bursting in the pine-wood air,Passing, before they stripped the old tree bareOne plum was saved for me, one seed becomes
An everlasting song, a singing tree,Caroling softly souls of slavery,What they were, and what they are to me,Caroling softly souls of slavery.
Words in this poem
- caroling n.
- A song of joy or devotion; a singing, as of carols. Coleridge.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Song of the Son is in the public domain. This text is taken from Cane, Project Gutenberg ebook #60093; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Jean Toomer, Song of the Son, in Cane (1923), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #60093, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/toomer-cane/song-of-the-son.html, id L01564.
Form and metre
Song of the Son is 23 lines in 5 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABBAA, complete in 3 of its 5 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.9 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 22% 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 ABBAA songA · nightB · nightB · alongA · alongA
- 2 ABBAA treeA · pinesB · declinesB · theeA · theeA
- 3 ABBAA onA · setB · yetB · goneA · goneA
- 4 ABBA plumsA · airB · bareB · becomesA
- 5 ABAB treeA · slaveryB · meA · slaveryB
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Pour O pour that parting soul in song, | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| O pour it in the sawdust glow of night, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Into the velvet pine-smoke air to-night, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And let the valley carry it along. | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| And let the valley carry it along. | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree, | 10 | ·········· |
| So scant of grass, so profligate of pines, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Now just before an epoch’s sun declines | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Thy son, in time, I have returned to thee, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Thy son, I have in time returned to thee. | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| In time, for though the sun is setting on | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| A song-lit race of slaves, it has not set; | 10 | ·········· |
| Though late, O soil, it is not too late yet | 10 | ·········· |
| To catch thy plaintive soul, leaving, soon gone, | 10 | ···/˘·/˘·· |
| Leaving, to catch thy plaintive soul soon gone. | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| O Negro slaves, dark purple ripened plums, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Squeezed, and bursting in the pine-wood air, | 10 | ·˘·/˘····· |
| Passing, before they stripped the old tree bare | 10 | /˘········ |
| One plum was saved for me, one seed becomes | 10 | ········˘/ |
| An everlasting song, a singing tree, | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| Caroling softly souls of slavery, | 10 | /˘˘/˘··/˘˘ |
| What they were, and what they are to me, | 9 | ········· |
| Caroling softly souls of slavery. | 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.