A Prayer for My Son
Bid a strong ghost stand at the headThat my Michael may sleep sound,Nor cry, nor turn in the bedTill his morning meal come round;And may departing twilight keepAll dread afar till morning’s back,That his mother may not lackHer fill of sleep.
Bid the ghost have sword in fist:Some there are, for I avowSuch devilish things exist,Who have planned his murder for they knowOf some most haughty deed or thoughtThat waits upon his future days,And would through hatred of the baysBring that to nought.
Though You can fashion everythingFrom nothing every day, and teachThe morning stars to sing,You have lacked articulate speechTo tell Your simplest want, and known,Wailing upon a woman’s knee,All of that worst ignominyOf flesh and bone;
And when through all the town there ranThe servants of Your enemy,A woman and a man,Unless the Holy Writings lie,Hurried through the smooth and roughAnd through the fertile and waste,Protecting, till the danger past,With human love.
Words in this poem
- ghost n.
- The spirit; the soul of man. [OE. gast, gost, soul, spirit, AS. gast breath, spirit, soul; akin to OS. g spirit, soul, D. geest, G. geist, and prob. to E. gaze, ghastly.]
- afar adv.
- At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
- avow v. t.
- To bind, or to devote, by a vow. Wyclif. [OF. avouer, fr. LL. votare to vow, fr. L. votun. See Vote, n.]
- haughty a.
- High; lofty; bold. [OE. hautein, F. hautain, fr. haut high, OF. also halt, fr. L. altus. See Altitude.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Prayer for My Son is in the public domain. This text is taken from The tower, Project Gutenberg ebook #72985; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: W. B. Yeats, A Prayer for My Son, in The Tower (1928), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #72985, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/yeats-tower/a-prayer-for-my-son.html, id L19971.
Form and metre
A Prayer for My Son is 32 lines in 4 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%).
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 ABABCDDC headA · soundB · bedA · roundB · keepC · backD · lackD · sleepC
- 2 A-A-BCCB fistA · avow · existA · know · thoughtB · daysC · baysC · noughtB
- 3 ABABC--C everythingA · teachB · singA · speechB · knownC · knee · ignominy · boneC
- 4 A-A----- ranA · enemy · manA · lie · rough · waste · past · love
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Bid a strong ghost stand at the head | 8 | ········ |
| That my Michael may sleep sound, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Nor cry, nor turn in the bed | 7 | ······· |
| Till his morning meal come round; | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| And may departing twilight keep | 8 | ··˘/˘/·· |
| All dread afar till morning’s back, | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| That his mother may not lack | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Her fill of sleep. | 4 | ···· |
| Bid the ghost have sword in fist: | 7 | ······· |
| Some there are, for I avow | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| Such devilish things exist, | 6 | ·/˘·˘/ |
| Who have planned his murder for they know | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| Of some most haughty deed or thought | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| That waits upon his future days, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And would through hatred of the bays | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Bring that to nought. | 4 | ···· |
| Though You can fashion everything | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| From nothing every day, and teach | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| The morning stars to sing, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| You have lacked articulate speech | 8 | ···˘/˘·· |
| To tell Your simplest want, and known, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Wailing upon a woman’s knee, | 8 | /˘···/˘· |
| All of that worst ignominy | 8 | ····/˘·˘ |
| Of flesh and bone; | 4 | ···· |
| And when through all the town there ran | 8 | ········ |
| The servants of Your enemy, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| A woman and a man, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Unless the Holy Writings lie, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Hurried through the smooth and rough | 7 | /˘····· |
| And through the fertile and waste, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Protecting, till the danger past, | 8 | ˘/˘··/˘· |
| With human love. | 4 | ·/˘· |
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.