[1039] Prayer before Birth
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.
I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.
I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.
I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak to me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.
I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.
I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.
I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.
Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.
-- Louis MacNeice
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I love the headlong momentum of this poem. MacNeice's poetry is usually
delicately balanced, informed by a world of possibility (and uncertainty).
Not so "Prayer before Birth", in which phrase piles on phrase in a desperate
catalogue of the perils of contemporary life. The cascading lines, heavy in
their use of internal rhymes and repetitions, assonances and alliteration,
are insistent, driving, a crazed litany; they're powerful, yet wonderfully
poignant. The unborn child speaking this dramatic monologue could be any of
us.
thomas.
[Minstrels Links]
Louis MacNeice:
Poem #18, Bagpipe Music
Poem #521, The Suicide
Poem #757, The Sunlight on the Garden
Poem #864, Snow
Various prayers:
Poem #177, Where The Mind is Without Fear -- Rabindranath Tagore
Poem #344, The Navajo Night Way Ceremony -- Anon. (Navajo)
Poem #349, A Prayer to the Sun -- Geoffrey Hill
Poem #987, Prayer -- Carol Ann Duffy
Poem #1007, Abide With Me -- Henry F. Lyte
Poem #1020, A Prayer for My Daughter -- William Butler Yeats
Poem #1029, Prayer (to the sun above the clouds) -- Piet Hein
[Somewhat Technical Afterthought]
"Prayer before Birth" may look like free verse, but it's actually carefully
structured. Apart from the devices mentioned above, note the extensive use
of dactyls (metrical feet of one stressed and two unstressed syllables),
which contribute to the cadence of the poem:
my thoughts when they think me
- / - - / -
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
- / - - / - - / - - / -
my life when they murder by means of my hands,
- / - - / - - / - - /
The poet also uses the occasional spondee (two consecutive stresses) to
prevent the rhythm from becoming monotonous:
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
- / - - / - / - - / / / -
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
- / / / - - / / / -
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.
- / / / - - / / / -
From: Kittjam@
This poem is a very moving reflection, examining what it means to be human.
It is great, partly because of the unusual perspective MacNeice has written
from, and also because of the diverse range of both poetic and linguistic
devices in the poem, all of which have been used very effectively to create
the mood of the poem.
The image that the writer is not yet born creates a sense of innocence, and
this enables MacNeice to speak of the corrupt nature of man in a powerful
voice.
From: martino@ Thu Jul 15 23:52:50 2004
Hi,
My comments are as follows.
I learned this poem in school in Ireland around the age of 13 and it has
never really left my consciousness. From memory I think it was written
around 1939, I wasn't able to easily verify this on the net though I am
sure it is out there somewhere.
For me the poem really resonates with me as encapsulating my hopes,
fears of the present and future. Maybe that was in Louis's (sic- I can
never remember the grammatical rule for that scenario) mind too as
Europe ran headlong towards world war.
Funnily enough with the grassroots actions that seem to be springing up
all around the world to bring some commonsense back in I'm very hopeful
that history wont replay itself in such a direct way.
Either way it is my most personal poem, summing up all that I am now, at
30 years of age, in a more beautiful, human and poignant way that I
could never do.
Best regards,
Martino
Note: I have some suggestions due to my work background about usability
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Windows International Content Services
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From: "Sandra Gastaldi" <sandragastaldi@>
Sorry, do you happen to know when exactly this poem was published?
Thanks,
Sandra Gastaldi
From: "pay.kat" <pay.kat@>
kat brown
From: Dmdyson31@
well this is my favorate poem of all time, I was given a book when i was
14(every mans book of evergreen verse) because i love poetry and this was in it.
I still know it by heart.
BRILLIANT!!!
From: Nicholas Griffiths <n.e.griffiths@>
This poem is great, I havn't read MacNeice before. I love the line "Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God come near me."
nick