Our State
THE South-land boasts its teeming cane,The prairied West its heavy grain,And sunset's radiant gates unfoldOn rising marts and sands of gold.
Rough, bleak, and hard, our little StateIs scant of soil, of limits strait;Her yellow sands are sands alone,Her only mines are ice and stone!
From Autumn frost to April rain,Too long her winter woods complain;From budding flower to falling leaf,Her summer time is all too brief.
Yet, on her rocks, and on her sands,And wintry hills, the school-house stands,And what her rugged soil denies,The harvest of the mind supplies.
The riches of the CommonwealthAre free, strong minds, and hearts of health;And more to her than gold or grain,The cunning hand and cultured brain.
For well she keeps her ancient stock,The stubborn strength of Pilgrim Rock;And still maintains, with milder laws,And clearer light, the Good Old Cause.
Nor heeds the skeptic's puny hands,While near her school the church-spire stands;Nor fears the blinded bigot's rule,While near her church-spire stands the school.
Words in this poem
- teeming a.
- Prolific; productive.
- wintry a.
- Suitable to winter; resembling winter, or what belongs to winter; brumal; hyemal; cold; stormy; wintery. [AS. wintrig.]
- commonwealth n.
- A state; a body politic consisting of a certain number of men, united, by compact or tacit agreement, under one form of government and system of laws. [Common + wealth well-being.]
- cultured a.
- Under culture; cultivated.
- clearer n.
- One who, or that which, clears.
- puny a.
- Imperfectly developed in size or vigor; small and feeble; inferior; petty. [F. puîté younger, later born, OF. puisné; puis afterwards (L. post; see Post-) + né born, L. natus. See Natal, and cf. Puisne.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Our State is in the public domain. This text is taken from Anti-Slavery Poems and Songs of Labor and Reform, Complete Volume III of The Works of John Greenleaf Whittier, Project Gutenberg ebook #9580; 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 Greenleaf Whittier, Our State, in Anti-Slavery Poems and Songs of Labor and Reform (1865), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9580, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/whittier-anti-slavery/our-state.html, id L24954.
Form and metre
Our State is 28 lines in 7 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes AABB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 97%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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 AABB caneA · grainA · unfoldB · goldB
- 2 AABB stateA · straitA · aloneB · stoneB
- 3 AABB rainA · complainA · leafB · briefB
- 4 AABB sandsA · standsA · deniesB · suppliesB
- 5 AABB commonwealthA · healthA · grainB · brainB
- 6 AABB stockA · rockA · lawsB · causeB
- 7 AABB handsA · standsA · ruleB · schoolB
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| THE South-land boasts its teeming cane, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The prairied West its heavy grain, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And sunset's radiant gates unfold | 8 | ·/·/˘·˘/ |
| On rising marts and sands of gold. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Rough, bleak, and hard, our little State | 8 | ····//˘· |
| Is scant of soil, of limits strait; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Her yellow sands are sands alone, | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Her only mines are ice and stone! | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| From Autumn frost to April rain, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Too long her winter woods complain; | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| From budding flower to falling leaf, | 8 | ·/˘/·/˘· |
| Her summer time is all too brief. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Yet, on her rocks, and on her sands, | 8 | ········ |
| And wintry hills, the school-house stands, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And what her rugged soil denies, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| The harvest of the mind supplies. | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| The riches of the Commonwealth | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Are free, strong minds, and hearts of health; | 8 | ········ |
| And more to her than gold or grain, | 8 | ········ |
| The cunning hand and cultured brain. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| For well she keeps her ancient stock, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The stubborn strength of Pilgrim Rock; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And still maintains, with milder laws, | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| And clearer light, the Good Old Cause. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Nor heeds the skeptic's puny hands, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| While near her school the church-spire stands; | 8 | ········ |
| Nor fears the blinded bigot's rule, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| While near her church-spire stands the school. | 8 | ········ |
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