The Cry of South Africa - Oliver Schreiner
Background
Oliver Schreiner (1855-1920):
- Shreiner’s father was a Boer
- Her mother was English
- Shreiner was a vocal supporter of the Afrikaners during this period and,
therefore, she was eventually confined to a concentration camp.
The Cry of South Africa: Analysis
- Written during the South African war (a.k.a. Anglo-Boer War from 1899-1902)
- The British used concentration camps in their campaign against Boer
Republics
- The conditions were deplorable and tens of thousands of South Africans died
(black and white citizens)
- This poem accurately conveys Shreiner’s opinion of the atrocities of war
- The speaker in the poem is the country, South Africa
Give back my dead!
They who by kop and fountain
First saw the light upon my rocky breast!
Give back my dead,
The sons who played upon me
When childhood’s dews still rested on their heads.
Give back my dead Whom thou hast riven from me
By arms of men loud called from earth’s farthest bound
To wet my bosom with my children’s blood!
Give back my dead,
The dead who grew upon me!
Structure:
- Free verse
- 1 stanza
- 12 lines
- No fixed rhyme pattern
- Fixed pattern of 4, 7, and then 10 syllables per line
Background
Oliver Schreiner (1855-1920):
- Shreiner’s father was a Boer
- Her mother was English
- Shreiner was a vocal supporter of the Afrikaners during this period and,
therefore, she was eventually confined to a concentration camp.
The Cry of South Africa: Analysis
- Written during the South African war (a.k.a. Anglo-Boer War from 1899-1902)
- The British used concentration camps in their campaign against Boer
Republics
- The conditions were deplorable and tens of thousands of South Africans died
(black and white citizens)
- This poem accurately conveys Shreiner’s opinion of the atrocities of war
- The speaker in the poem is the country, South Africa
Give back my dead!
They who by kop and fountain
First saw the light upon my rocky breast!
Give back my dead,
The sons who played upon me
When childhood’s dews still rested on their heads.
Give back my dead Whom thou hast riven from me
By arms of men loud called from earth’s farthest bound
To wet my bosom with my children’s blood!
Give back my dead,
The dead who grew upon me!
Structure:
- Free verse
- 1 stanza
- 12 lines
- No fixed rhyme pattern
- Fixed pattern of 4, 7, and then 10 syllables per line
