The Eve of Election
FROM gold to grayOur mild sweet dayOf Indian Summer fades too soon;But tenderlyAbove the seaHangs, white and calm, the hunter's moon.
In its pale fire,The village spireShows like the zodiac's spectral lance;The painted wallsWhereon it fallsTransfigured stand in marble trance!
O'er fallen leavesThe west-wind grieves,Yet comes a seed-time round again;And morn shall seeThe State sown freeWith baleful tares or healthful grain.
Along the streetThe shadows meetOf Destiny, whose hands concealThe moulds of fateThat shape the State,And make or mar the common weal.
Around I seeThe powers that be;I stand by Empire's primal springs;And princes meet,In every street,And hear the tread of uncrowned kings!
Hark! through the crowdThe laugh runs loud,Beneath the sad, rebuking moon.God save the landA careless handMay shake or swerve ere morrow's noon!
No jest is this;One cast amissMay blast the hope of Freedom's year.Oh, take me whereAre hearts of prayer,And foreheads bowed in reverent fear!
Not lightly fallBeyond recallThe written scrolls a breath can float;The crowning factThe kingliest actOf Freedom is the freeman's vote!
For pearls that gemA diademThe diver in the deep sea dies;The regal rightWe boast to-nightIs ours through costlier sacrifice;
The blood of Vane,His prison painWho traced the path the Pilgrim trod,And hers whose faithDrew strength from death,And prayed her Russell up to God!
Our hearts grow cold,We lightly holdA right which brave men died to gain;The stake, the cord,The axe, the sword,Grim nurses at its birth of pain.
The shadow rend,And o'er us bend,O martyrs, with your crowns and palms;Breathe through these throngsYour battle songs,Your scaffold prayers, and dungeon psalms.
Look from the sky,Like God's great eye,Thou solemn moon, with searching beam,Till in the sightOf thy pure lightOur mean self-seekings meaner seem.
Shame from our heartsUnworthy arts,The fraud designed, the purpose dark;And smite awayThe hands we layProfanely on the sacred ark.
To party claimsAnd private aims,Reveal that august face of Truth,Whereto are givenThe age of heaven,The beauty of immortal youth.
So shall our voiceOf sovereign choiceSwell the deep bass of duty done,And strike the keyOf time to be,When God and man shall speak as one!
Words in this poem
- tenderly adv.
- In a tender manner; with tenderness; mildly; gently; softly; in a manner not to injure or give pain; with pity or affection; kindly.
- whereon adv.
- On which; -- used relatively; as, the earth whereon we live.
- 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.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- primal a.
- First; primary; original; chief. [LL. primalis, fr. L. primus the first. See Prime, a.]
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
- dungeon n.
- A close, dark prison, commondonjon or keep of a castle, these being used as prisons. [OE. donjoun highest tower of a castle, tower, prison, F. donjon tower or platform in the midst of a castle, turret, or closet on the top of a house, a keep of a]
- profanely adv.
- In a profane manner.
- whereto adv.
- To which; -- used relatively.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Eve of Election 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, The Eve of Election, 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/the-eve-of-election.html, id L24964.
Form and metre
The Eve of Election is 96 lines in 16 stanzas of 6 lines each. The rhyme scheme is AABCCB, complete in 12 of its 16 stanzas. The metre is iambic dimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
See other poems in iambic dimeter.
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 AAB--B grayA · dayA · soonB · tenderly · sea · moonB
- 2 AABCCB fireA · spireA · lanceB · wallsC · fallsC · tranceB
- 3 AABCCB leavesA · grievesA · againB · seeC · freeC · grainB
- 4 AABCCB streetA · meetA · concealB · fateC · stateC · wealB
- 5 AABCCB seeA · beA · springsB · meetC · streetC · kingsB
- 6 AABCCB crowdA · loudA · moonB · landC · handC · noonB
- 7 AABCCB thisA · amissA · yearB · whereC · prayerC · fearB
- 8 AABCCB fallA · recallA · floatB · factC · actC · voteB
- 9 AA-BB- gemA · diademA · dies · rightB · nightB · sacrifice
- 10 AAB--B vaneA · painA · trodB · faith · death · godB
- 11 AABCCB coldA · holdA · gainB · cordC · swordC · painB
- 12 AABCCB rendA · bendA · palmsB · throngsC · songsC · psalmsB
- 13 AABCCB skyA · eyeA · beamB · sightC · lightC · seemB
- 14 AABCCB heartsA · artsA · darkB · awayC · layC · arkB
- 15 AAB--B claimsA · aimsA · truthB · given · heaven · youthB
- 16 AABCCB voiceA · choiceA · doneB · keyC · beC · oneB
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 dimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| FROM gold to gray | 4 | ···· |
| Our mild sweet day | 4 | /··· |
| Of Indian Summer fades too soon; | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| But tenderly | 4 | ·/˘˘ |
| Above the sea | 4 | ···· |
| Hangs, white and calm, the hunter's moon. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In its pale fire, | 5 | ···/˘ |
| The village spire | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Shows like the zodiac's spectral lance; | 9 | ···/˘·/˘· |
| The painted walls | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Whereon it falls | 4 | ˘/·· |
| Transfigured stand in marble trance! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| O'er fallen leaves | 4 | ·/˘· |
| The west-wind grieves, | 4 | ···· |
| Yet comes a seed-time round again; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| And morn shall see | 4 | ···· |
| The State sown free | 4 | ···· |
| With baleful tares or healthful grain. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Along the street | 4 | ˘/·· |
| The shadows meet | 4 | ·/·· |
| Of Destiny, whose hands conceal | 7 | ·/˘··˘/ |
| The moulds of fate | 4 | ···· |
| That shape the State, | 4 | ···· |
| And make or mar the common weal. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Around I see | 4 | ···· |
| The powers that be; | 4 | ·/·· |
| I stand by Empire's primal springs; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And princes meet, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| In every street, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| And hear the tread of uncrowned kings! | 8 | ········ |
| Hark! through the crowd | 4 | ···· |
| The laugh runs loud, | 4 | ···· |
| Beneath the sad, rebuking moon. | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| God save the land | 4 | ···· |
| A careless hand | 4 | ·/˘· |
| May shake or swerve ere morrow's noon! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| No jest is this; | 4 | ···· |
| One cast amiss | 4 | ··˘/ |
| May blast the hope of Freedom's year. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Oh, take me where | 4 | ···· |
| Are hearts of prayer, | 4 | ···· |
| And foreheads bowed in reverent fear! | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| Not lightly fall | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Beyond recall | 4 | ··/· |
| The written scrolls a breath can float; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The crowning fact | 4 | ·/˘· |
| The kingliest act | 4 | ···· |
| Of Freedom is the freeman's vote! | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| For pearls that gem | 4 | ···· |
| A diadem | 4 | ·/˘· |
| The diver in the deep sea dies; | 7 | ·/····· |
| The regal right | 4 | ·/˘· |
| We boast to-night | 4 | ···· |
| Is ours through costlier sacrifice; | 8 | ·/·/˘/˘· |
| The blood of Vane, | 4 | ···· |
| His prison pain | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Who traced the path the Pilgrim trod, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And hers whose faith | 4 | ···· |
| Drew strength from death, | 4 | ···· |
| And prayed her Russell up to God! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Our hearts grow cold, | 4 | /··· |
| We lightly hold | 4 | ·/˘· |
| A right which brave men died to gain; | 8 | ········ |
| The stake, the cord, | 4 | ···· |
| The axe, the sword, | 4 | ···· |
| Grim nurses at its birth of pain. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The shadow rend, | 4 | ·/·· |
| And o'er us bend, | 4 | ···· |
| O martyrs, with your crowns and palms; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Breathe through these throngs | 4 | ···· |
| Your battle songs, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Your scaffold prayers, and dungeon psalms. | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Look from the sky, | 4 | ···· |
| Like God's great eye, | 4 | ···· |
| Thou solemn moon, with searching beam, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Till in the sight | 4 | ···· |
| Of thy pure light | 4 | ···· |
| Our mean self-seekings meaner seem. | 8 | /··/˘/˘· |
| Shame from our hearts | 4 | ··/· |
| Unworthy arts, | 4 | ˘/˘· |
| The fraud designed, the purpose dark; | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| And smite away | 4 | ··˘/ |
| The hands we lay | 4 | ···· |
| Profanely on the sacred ark. | 8 | ˘/˘··/˘· |
| To party claims | 4 | ·/˘· |
| And private aims, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Reveal that august face of Truth, | 8 | ˘/·/˘··· |
| Whereto are given | 5 | ˘/·/˘ |
| The age of heaven, | 5 | ···/˘ |
| The beauty of immortal youth. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/˘· |
| So shall our voice | 4 | ··/· |
| Of sovereign choice | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Swell the deep bass of duty done, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And strike the key | 4 | ···· |
| Of time to be, | 4 | ···· |
| When God and man shall speak as one! | 8 | ········ |
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