Ye Wearie Wayfarer, Hys Ballad - (in Eight Fyttes) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABC DE FGFGHIHIJKJK LMLNOAOABPBQ ARR SRTJU VWVWTXTXRTRRTRT RWRWRYRYTZTZRA2RA2RW RW RRRRA2XA2XRXRX B2RB2RC2RC2RD2E2D2E2 QAQF2 RG2RG2RH2RRH2I2A2I2A 2 ARF2 J2WJ2WH RQRQH2RH2R K2QRQWL2WL2 WF2WF2WRWR M2RM2RYWYW J2F2J2J2RN2RN2 RXRXWO2WO2 M2WJ2 RZRZF2 WN2WN2WWWWP2ZP2Z WXWXWCWCO2CO2O2CRD2R RD2 N2J2N2N2J2M2YM2Y N2WN2WRCRCRYRYM2XF2X M2N2M2N2J2J2J2J2 O2ZO2ZRRRR RRRRRJ2RRJ2WJ2WJ2WA2 WA2 N2O2N2N2O2J2C2J2J2C2 YO2YYO2F2F2F2RIIIRWW WWW F2WW RD2R TN2TN2Q2XQ2X WN2WN2XRTR O2A2O2A2RO2RO2 WJ2WJ2M2J2M2J2 J2TJ2TJ2TJ2T WTWTWTWTWWT TN2WWWWN2 N2N2M2R2R2M2M2M2N2M2 M2M2N2 WWWWWW JJWTTTW M2WR W Q2RQ2RO2RO2R RRRRM2O2M2O2 M2WJ2 TJ2TTJ2W RRRRN2J2N2J2 N2J2N2J2RN2RN2 RM2RM2TJ2TJ2 YWYWJ2TJ2T JWJWA2J2A2J2 S2RS2RA2WA2W RWRWRWRW J2RJ2RWRWR J2T2J2T2RTRT M2J2M2J2RJ2RJ2 RRRRM2TM2T RTRTRTRT RJ2RJ2RRRR RRRRO2RO2R RTRTRWRW M2WN2 WM2J2 N2A2N2A2CU2CU2 TRTRN2N2N2N2WRWRCTCT N2M2N2M2RRRRRRRRCM2C M2 TJ2TJ2CJ2CJ2 M2RM2RWO2WO2 J2V2J2V2WRWRTWTWWJ2W J2 J2WJ2WRM2RM2J2WJ2WTW TW J2O2J2O2RRRRWM2WM2J2 WJ2WRTRT TRTRTJ2TJ2 J2TJ2TJ2TJ2T TWTWTWTW WT2WT2WRWRWRWR WWWWJ2M2J2M2TWTW M2TM2TWWWW TJ2TJ2WJ2WJ2 J2RJ2RRWRW

Fytte I	A
By Wood and Wold	B
A Preamble	C
	-
Beneath the greenwood bough	D
W Scott	E
	-
	-
Lightly the breath of the spring wind blows	F
Though laden with faint perfume	G
'Tis the fragrance rare that the bushman knows	F
The scent of the wattle bloom	G
Two thirds of our journey at least are done	H
Old horse let us take a spell	I
In the shade from the glare of the noonday sun	H
Thus far we have travell'd well	I
Your bridle I'll slip your saddle ungirth	J
And lay them beside this log	K
For you'll roll in that track of reddish earth	J
And shake like a water dog	K
	-
Upon yonder rise there's a clump of trees	L
Their shadows look cool and broad	M
You can crop the grass as fast as you please	L
While I stretch my limbs on the sward	N
'Tis pleasant I ween with a leafy screen	O
O'er the weary head to lie	A
On the mossy carpet of emerald green	O
'Neath the vault of the azure sky	A
Thus all alone by the wood and wold	B
I yield myself once again	P
To the memories old that like tales fresh told	B
Come flitting across the brain	Q
	-
	-
	-
Fytte II	A
By Flood and Field	R
A Legend of the Cottiswold	R
	-
They have saddled a hundred milk white steeds	S
They have bridled a hundred black Old Ballad	R
He turned in his saddle now follow who dare	T
I ride for my country quoth	J
Lawrence	U
	-
	-
I remember the lowering wintry morn	V
And the mist on the Cotswold hills	W
Where I once heard the blast of the huntsman's horn	V
Not far from the seven rills	W
Jack Esdale was there and Hugh St Clair	T
Bob Chapman and Andrew Kerr	X
And big George Griffiths on Devil May Care	T
And black Tom Oliver	X
And one who rode on a dark brown steed	R
Clean jointed sinewy spare	T
With the lean game head of the Blacklock breed	R
And the resolute eye that loves the lead	R
And the quarters massive and square	T
A tower of strength with a promise of speed	R
There was Celtic blood in the pair	T
	-
I remember how merry a start we got	R
When the red fox broke from the gorse	W
In a country so deep with a scent so hot	R
That the hound could outpace the horse	W
I remember how few in the front rank shew'd	R
How endless appeared the tail	Y
On the brown hill side where we cross'd the road	R
And headed towards the vale	Y
The dark brown steed on the left was there	T
On the right was a dappled grey	Z
And between the pair on a chestnut mare	T
The duffer who writes this lay	Z
What business had this child there to ride	R
But little or none at all	A2
Yet I held my own for a while in the pride	R
That goeth before a fall	A2
Though rashness can hope for but one result	R
We are heedless when fate draws nigh us	W
And the maxim holds good Quem perdere vult	R
Deus dementat prius	W
	-
The right hand man to the left hand said	R
As down in the vale we went	R
Harden your heart like a millstone Ned	R
And set your face as flint	R
Solid and tall is the rasping wall	A2
That stretches before us yonder	X
You must have it at speed or not at all	A2
'Twere better to halt than to ponder	X
For the stream runs wide on the take off side	R
And washes the clay bank under	X
Here goes for a pull 'tis a madman's ride	R
And a broken neck if you blunder	X
	-
No word in reply his comrade spoke	B2
Nor waver'd nor once look'd round	R
But I saw him shorten his horse's stroke	B2
As we splash'd through the marshy ground	R
I remember the laugh that all the while	C2
On his quiet features play'd	R
So he rode to his death with that careless smile	C2
In the van of the Light Brigade	R
So stricken by Russian grape the cheer	D2
Rang out while he toppled back	E2
From the shattered lungs as merry and clear	D2
As it did when it roused the pack	E2
Let never a tear his memory stain	Q
Give his ashes never a sigh	A
One of many who perished not in vain	Q
As a type of our chivalry	F2
	-
I remember one thrust he gave to his hat	R
And two to the flanks of the brown	G2
And still as a statue of old he sat	R
And he shot to the front hands down	G2
I remember the snort and the stag like bound	R
Of the steed six lengths to the fore	H2
And the laugh of the rider while landing sound	R
He turned in his saddle and glanced around	R
I remember but little more	H2
Save a bird's eye gleam of the dashing stream	I2
A jarring thud on the wall	A2
A shock and the blank of a nightmare's dream	I2
I was down with a stunning fall	A2
	-
	-
	-
Fytte III	A
Zu der edlen Yagd	R
A Treatise on Trees Vine tree v Saddle tree	F2
	-
Now welcome welcome masters mine	J2
Thrice welcome to the noble chase	W
Nor earthly sport nor sport divine	J2
Can take such honourable place	W
Ballad of the Wild Huntsman Free Translation	H
	-
	-
I remember some words my father said	R
When I was an urchin vain	Q
God rest his soul in his narrow bed	R
These ten long years he hath lain	Q
When I think one drop of the blood he bore	H2
This faint heart surely must hold	R
It may be my fancy and nothing more	H2
But the faint heart seemeth bold	R
	-
He said that as from the blood of grape	K2
Or from juice distilled from the grain	Q
False vigour soon to evaporate	R
Is lent to nerve and brain	Q
So the coward will dare on the gallant horse	W
What he never would dare alone	L2
Because he exults in a borrowed force	W
And a hardihood not his own	L2
	-
And it may be so yet this difference lies	W
'Twixt the vine and the saddle tree	F2
The spurious courage that drink supplies	W
Sets our baser passions free	F2
But the stimulant which the horseman feels	W
When he gallops fast and straight	R
To his better nature most appeals	W
And charity conquers hate	R
	-
As the kindly sunshine thaws the snow	M2
E'en malice and spite will yield	R
We could almost welcome our mortal foe	M2
In the saddle by flood and field	R
And chivalry dawns in the merry tale	Y
That Market Harborough writes	W
And the yarns of Nimrod and Martingale	Y
Seem legends of loyal knights	W
	-
Now tell me for once old horse of mine	J2
Grazing round me loose and free	F2
Does your ancient equine heart repine	J2
For a burst in such companie	J2
Where the powers that be in the front rank ride	R
To hold your own with the throng	N2
Or to plunge at Faugh a Ballagh's side	R
In the rapids of Dandenong	N2
	-
Don't tread on my toes you're no foolish weight	R
So I found to my cost as under	X
Your carcase I lay when you rose too late	R
Yet I blame you not for the blunder	X
What sulky old man your under lip falls	W
You think I too ready to rail am	O2
At your kinship remote to that duffer at walls	W
The talkative roadster of Balaam	O2
	-
	-
	-
Fytte IV	M2
In Utrumque Paratus	W
A Logical Discussion	J2
	-
Then hey for boot and horse lad	R
And round the world away	Z
Young blood will have its course lad	R
And every dog his day	Z
C Kingsley	F2
	-
	-
There's a formula which the west country clowns	W
Once used ere their blows fell thick	N2
At the fairs on the Devon and Cornwall downs	W
In their bouts with the single stick	N2
You may read a moral not far amiss	W
If you care to moralise	W
In the crossing guard where the ash plants kiss	W
To the words God spare our eyes	W
No game was ever yet worth a rap	P2
For a rational man to play	Z
Into which no accident no mishap	P2
Could possibly find its way	Z
	-
If you hold the willow a shooter from Wills	W
May transform you into a hopper	X
And the football meadow is rife with spills	W
If you feel disposed for a cropper	X
In a rattling gallop with hound and horse	W
You may chance to reverse the medal	C
On the sward with the saddle your loins across	W
And your hunter's loins on the saddle	C
In the stubbles you'll find it hard to frame	O2
A remonstrance firm yet civil	C
When oft as our mutual friend takes aim	O2
Long odds may be laid on the rising game	O2
And against your gaiters level	C
There's danger even where fish are caught	R
To those who a wetting fear	D2
For what's worth having must aye be bought	R
And sport's like life and life's like sport	R
It ain't all skittles and beer	D2
	-
The honey bag lies close to the sting	N2
The rose is fenced by the thorn	J2
Shall we leave to others their gathering	N2
And turn from clustering fruits that cling	N2
To the garden wall in scorn	J2
Albeit those purple grapes hang high	M2
Like the fox in the ancient tale	Y
Let us pause and try ere we pass them by	M2
Though we like the fox may fail	Y
	-
All hurry is worse than useless think	N2
On the adage 'Tis pace that kills	W
Shun bad tobacco avoid strong drink	N2
Abstain from Holloway's pills	W
Wear woollen socks they're the best you'll find	R
Beware how you leave off flannel	C
And whatever you do don't change your mind	R
When once you have picked your panel	C
With a bank of cloud in the south south east	R
Stand ready to shorten sail	Y
Fight shy of a corporation feast	R
Don't trust to a martingale	Y
Keep your powder dry and shut one eye	M2
Not both when you touch your trigger	X
Don't stop with your head too frequently	F2
This advice ain't meant for a nigger	X
Look before you leap if you like but if	M2
You mean leaping don't look long	N2
Or the weakest place will soon grow stiff	M2
And the strongest doubly strong	N2
As far as you can to every man	J2
Let your aid be freely given	J2
And hit out straight 'tis your shortest plan	J2
When against the ropes you're driven	J2
	-
Mere pluck though not in the least sublime	O2
Is wiser than blank dismay	Z
Since No sparrow can fall before its time	O2
And we're valued higher than they	Z
So hope for the best and leave the rest	R
In charge of a stronger hand	R
Like the honest boors in the far off west	R
With the formula terse and grand	R
	-
They were men for the most part rough and rude	R
Dull and illiterate	R
But they nursed no quarrel they cherished no feud	R
They were strangers to spite and hate	R
In a kindly spirit they took their stand	R
That brothers and sons might learn	J2
How a man should uphold the sports of his land	R
And strike his best with a strong right hand	R
And take his strokes in return	J2
'Twas a barbarous practice the Quaker cries	W
'Tis a thing of the past thank heaven	J2
Keep your thanks till the combative instinct dies	W
With the taint of the olden leaven	J2
Yes the times are changed for better or worse	W
The prayer that no harm befall	A2
Has given its place to a drunken curse	W
And the manly game to a brawl	A2
	-
Our burdens are heavy our natures weak	N2
Some pastime devoid of harm	O2
May we look for Puritan elder speak	N2
Yea friend peradventure thou mayest seek	N2
Recreation singing a psalm	O2
If I did your visage so grim and stern	J2
Would relax in a ghastly smile	C2
For of music I never one note could learn	J2
And my feeble minstrelsy would turn	J2
Your chant to discord vile	C2
	-
Tho' the Philistine's mail could not avail	Y
Nor the spear like a weaver's beam	O2
There are episodes yet in the Psalmist's tale	Y
To obliterate which his poems fail	Y
Which his exploits fail to redeem	O2
Can the Hittite's wrongs forgotten be	F2
Does he warble Non nobis Domine	F2
With his monarch in blissful concert free	F2
From all malice to flesh inherent	R
Zeruiah's offspring who served so well	I
Yet between the horns of the altar fell	I
Does his voice the Quid gloriaris swell	I
Or the Quare fremuerunt	R
It may well be thus where David sings	W
And Uriah joins in the chorus	W
But while earth to earthy matter clings	W
Neither you nor the bravest of Judah's kings	W
As a pattern can stand before us	W
	-
	-
	-
Fytte V	F2
Lex Talionis	W
A Moral Discourse	W
	-
And if there's blood upon his hand	R
'Tis but the blood of deer	D2
W Scott	R
	-
	-
To beasts of the field and fowls of the air	T
And fish of the sea alike	N2
Man's hand is ever slow to spare	T
And ever ready to strike	N2
With a license to kill and to work our will	Q2
In season by land or by water	X
To our heart's content we may take our fill	Q2
Of the joys we derive from slaughter	X
	-
And few I reckon our rights gainsay	W
In this world of rapine and wrong	N2
Where the weak and the timid seem lawful prey	W
For the resolute and the strong	N2
Fins furs and feathers they are and were	X
For our use and pleasure created	R
We can shoot and hunt and angle and snare	T
Unquestioned if not unsated	R
	-
I have neither the will nor the right to blame	O2
Yet to many though not to all	A2
The sweets of destruction are somewhat tame	O2
When no personal risks befall	A2
Our victims suffer but little we trust	R
Mere guess work and blank enigma	O2
If they suffer at all our field sports must	R
Of cruelty bear the stigma	O2
	-
Shall we hard hearted to their fates thus	W
Soft hearted shrink from our own	J2
When the measure we mete is meted to us	W
When we reap as we've always sown	J2
Shall we who for pastime have squander'd life	M2
Who are styled the Lords of Creation	J2
Recoil from our chance of more equal strife	M2
And our risk of retaliation	J2
	-
Though short is the dying pheasant's pain	J2
Scant pity you well may spare	T
And the partridge slain is a triumph vain	J2
And a risk that a child may dare	T
You feel when you lower the smoking gun	J2
Some ruth for yon slaughtered hare	T
And hit or miss in your selfish fun	J2
The widgeon has little share	T
	-
But you've no remorseful qualms or pangs	W
When you kneel by the grizzly's lair	T
On that conical bullet your sole chance hangs	W
'Tis the weak one's advantage fair	T
And the shaggy giant's terrific fangs	W
Are ready to crush and tear	T
Should you miss one vision of home and friends	W
Five words of unfinished prayer	T
Three savage knife stabs so your sport ends	W
In the worrying grapple that chokes and rends	W
Rare sport at least for the bear	T
	-
Short shrift sharp fate dark doom to dree	T
Hard struggle though quickly ending	N2
At home or abroad by land or sea	W
In peace or war sore trials must be	W
And worse may happen to you or to me	W
For none are secure and none can flee	W
From a destiny impending	N2
	-
Ah friend did you think when the London sank	N2
Timber by timber plank by plank	N2
In a cauldron of boiling surf	M2
How alone at least with never a flinch	R2
In a rally contested inch by inch	R2
You could fall on the trampled turf	M2
When a livid wall of the sea leaps high	M2
In the lurid light of a leaden sky	M2
And bursts on the quarter railing	N2
While the howling storm gust seems to vie	M2
With the crash of splintered beams that fly	M2
Yet fails too oft to smother the cry	M2
Of women and children wailing	N2
	-
Then those who listen in sinking ships	W
To despairing sobs from their lov'd one's lips	W
Where the green wave thus slowly shatters	W
May long for the crescent claw that rips	W
The bison into ribbons and strips	W
And tears the strong elk to tatters	W
	-
Oh sunderings short of body and breath	J
Oh battle and murder and sudden death	J
Against which the Liturgy preaches	W
By the will of a just yet a merciful Power	T
Less bitter perchance in the mystic hour	T
When the wings of the shadowy angel lower	T
Than man in his blindness teaches	W
	-
	-
	-
Fytte VI	M2
Potters' Clay	W
An Allegorical Interlude	R
	-
Nec propter vitam vivendi perdere causas	W
	-
	-
Though the pitcher that goes to the sparkling rill	Q2
Too oft gets broken at last	R
There are scores of others its place to fill	Q2
When its earth to the earth is cast	R
Keep that pitcher at home let it never roam	O2
But lie like a useless clod	R
Yet sooner or later the hour will come	O2
When its chips are thrown to the sod	R
	-
Is it wise then say in the waning day	R
When the vessel is crack'd and old	R
To cherish the battered potters' clay	R
As though it were virgin gold	R
Take care of yourself dull boorish elf	M2
Though prudent and safe you seem	O2
Your pitcher will break on the musty shelf	M2
And mine by the dazzling stream	O2
	-
	-
	-
Fytte VII	M2
Cito Pede Preterit Aetas	W
A Philosophical Dissertation	J2
	-
Gillian's dead God rest her bier	T
How I loved her many years syne	J2
Marion's married but I sit here	T
Alive and merry at three score year	T
Dipping my nose in Gascoigne wine	J2
Wamba's Song Thackeray	W
	-
	-
A mellower light doth Sol afford	R
His meridian glare has pass'd	R
And the trees on the broad and sloping sward	R
Their length'ning shadows cast	R
Time flies The current will be no joke	N2
If swollen by recent rain	J2
To cross in the dark so I'll have a smoke	N2
And then I'll be off again	J2
	-
What's up old horse Your ears you prick	N2
And your eager eyeballs glisten	J2
'Tis the wild dog's note in the tea tree thick	N2
By the river to which you listen	J2
With head erect and tail flung out	R
For a gallop you seem to beg	N2
But I feel the qualm of a chilling doubt	R
As I glance at your fav'rite leg	N2
	-
Let the dingo rest 'tis all for the best	R
In this world there's room enough	M2
For him and you and me and the rest	R
And the country is awful rough	M2
We've had our gallop in days of yore	T
Now down the hill we must run	J2
Yet at times we long for one gallop more	T
Although it were only one	J2
	-
Did our spirits quail at a new four rail	Y
Could a double double bank us	W
Ere nerve and sinew began to fail	Y
In the consulship of Plancus	W
When our blood ran rapidly and when	J2
Our bones were pliant and limber	T
Could we stand a merry cross counter then	J2
A slogging fall over timber	T
	-
Arcades ambo Duffers both	J
In our best of days alas	W
I tell the truth though to tell it loth	J
'Tis time we were gone to grass	W
The young leaves shoot the sere leaves fall	A2
And the old gives way to the new	J2
While the preacher cries 'tis vanity all	A2
And vexation of spirit too	J2
	-
Now over my head the vapours curl	S2
From the bowl of the soothing clay	R
In the misty forms that eddy and whirl	S2
My thoughts are flitting away	R
Yes the preacher's right 'tis vanity all	A2
But the sweeping rebuke he showers	W
On vanities all may heaviest fall	A2
On vanities worse than ours	W
	-
We have no wish to exaggerate	R
The worth of the sports we prize	W
Some toil for their Church and some for their State	R
And some for their merchandise	W
Some traffic and trade in the city's mart	R
Some travel by land and sea	W
Some follow science some cleave to art	R
And some to scandal and tea	W
	-
And some for their country and their queen	J2
Would fight if the chance they had	R
Good sooth 'twere a sorry world I ween	J2
If we all went galloping mad	R
Yet if once we efface the joys of the chase	W
From the land and outroot the Stud	R
Good bye to the anglo saxon race	W
Farewell to the norman blood	R
	-
Where the burn runs down to the uplands brown	J2
From the heights of the snow clad range	T2
What anodyne drawn from the stifling town	J2
Can be reckon'd a fair exchange	T2
For the stalker's stride on the mountain side	R
In the bracing northern weather	T
To the slopes where couch in their antler'd pride	R
The deer on the perfum'd heather	T
	-
Oh the vigour with which the air is rife	M2
The spirit of joyous motion	J2
The fever the fulness of animal life	M2
Can be drain'd from no earthly potion	J2
The lungs with the living gas grow light	R
And the limbs feel the strength of ten	J2
While the chest expands with its madd'ning might	R
God's glorious oxygen	J2
	-
Thus the measur'd stroke on elastic sward	R
Of the steed three parts extended	R
Hard held the breath of his nostrils broad	R
With the golden ether blended	R
Then the leap the rise from the springy turf	M2
The rush through the buoyant air	T
And the light shock landing the veriest serf	M2
Is an emperor then and there	T
	-
Such scenes sensation and sound and sight	R
To some undiscover'd shore	T
On the current of Time's remorseless flight	R
Have they swept to return no more	T
While like phantoms bright of the fever'd night	R
That have vex'd our slumbers of yore	T
You follow us still in your ghostly might	R
Dead days that have gone before	T
	-
Vain dreams again and again re told	R
Must you crowd on the weary brain	J2
Till the fingers are cold that entwin'd of old	R
Round foil and trigger and rein	J2
Till stay'd for aye are the roving feet	R
Till the restless hands are quiet	R
Till the stubborn heart has forgotten to beat	R
Till the hot blood has ceas'd to riot	R
	-
In Exeter Hall the saint may chide	R
The sinner may scoff outright	R
The Bacchanal steep'd in the flagon's tide	R
Or the sensual Sybarite	R
But Nolan's name will flourish in fame	O2
When our galloping days are past	R
When we go to the place from whence we came	O2
Perchance to find rest at last	R
	-
Thy riddles grow dark oh drifting cloud	R
And thy misty shapes grow drear	T
Thou hang'st in the air like a shadowy shroud	R
But I am of lighter cheer	T
Though our future lot is a sable blot	R
Though the wise ones of earth will blame us	W
Though our saddles will rot and our rides be forgot	R
Dum Vivimus Vivamus	W
	-
	-
	-
Fytte VIII	M2
Finis Exoptatus	W
A Metaphysical Song	N2
	-
There's something in this world amiss	W
Shall be unriddled by and bye	M2
Tennyson	J2
	-
	-
Boot and saddle see the slanting	N2
Rays begin to fall	A2
Flinging lights and colours flaunting	N2
Through the shadows tall	A2
Onward onward must we travel	C
When will come the goal	U2
Riddle I may not unravel	C
Cease to vex my soul	U2
	-
Harshly break those peals of laughter	T
From the jays aloft	R
Can we guess what they cry after	T
We have heard them oft	R
Perhaps some strain of rude thanksgiving	N2
Mingles in their song	N2
Are they glad that they are living	N2
Are they right or wrong	N2
Right 'tis joy that makes them call so	W
Why should they be sad	R
Certes we are living also	W
Shall not we be glad	R
Onward onward must we travel	C
Is the goal more near	T
Riddle we may not unravel	C
Why so dark and drear	T
	-
Yon small bird his hymn outpouring	N2
On the branch close by	M2
Recks not for the kestrel soaring	N2
In the nether sky	M2
Though the hawk with wings extended	R
Poises over head	R
Motionless as though suspended	R
By a viewless thread	R
See he stoops nay shooting forward	R
With the arrow's flight	R
Swift and straight away to nor'ward	R
Sails he out of sight	R
Onward onward thus we travel	C
Comes the goal more nigh	M2
Riddle we may not unravel	C
Who shall make reply	M2
	-
Ha Friend Ephraim saint or sinner	T
Tell me if you can	J2
Tho' we may not judge the inner	T
By the outer man	J2
Yet by girth of broadcloth ample	C
And by cheeks that shine	J2
Surely you set no example	C
In the fasting line	J2
	-
Could you like yon bird discov'ring	M2
Fate as close at hand	R
As the kestrel o'er him hov'ring	M2
Still as he did stand	R
Trusting grandly singing gaily	W
Confident and calm	O2
Not one false note in your daily	W
Hymn or weekly psalm	O2
	-
Oft your oily tones are heard in	J2
Chapel where you preach	V2
This the everlasting burden	J2
Of the tale you teach	V2
We are d d our sins are deadly	W
You alone are heal'd	R
'Twas not thus their gospel redly	W
Saints and martyrs seal'd	R
You had seem'd more like a martyr	T
Than you seem to us	W
To the beasts that caught a Tartar	T
Once at Ephesus	W
Rather than the stout apostle	W
Of the Gentiles who	J2
Pagan like could cuff and wrestle	W
They'd have chosen you	J2
	-
Yet I ween on such occasion	J2
Your dissenting voice	W
Would have been in mild persuasion	J2
Raised against their choice	W
Man of peace and man of merit	R
Pompous wise and grave	M2
Ephraim is it flesh or spirit	R
You strive most to save	M2
Vain is half this care and caution	J2
O'er the earthly shell	W
We can neither baffle nor shun	J2
Dark plumed Azrael	W
Onward onward still we wander	T
Nearer draws the goal	W
Half the riddle's read we ponder	T
Vainly on the whole	W
	-
Eastward in the pink horizon	J2
Fleecy hillocks shame	O2
This dim range dull earth that lies on	J2
Tinged with rosy flame	O2
Westward as a stricken giant	R
Stoops his bloody crest	R
And tho' vanquished frowns defiant	R
Sinks the sun to rest	R
Distant yet approaching quickly	W
From the shades that lurk	M2
Like a black pall gathers thickly	W
Night when none may work	M2
Soon our restless occupation	J2
Shall have ceas'd to be	W
Units in God's vast creation	J2
Ciphers what are we	W
Onward onward oh faint hearted	R
Nearer and more near	T
Has the goal drawn since we started	R
Be of better cheer	T
	-
Preacher all forbearance ask for	T
All are worthless found	R
Man must aye take man to task for	T
Faults while earth goes round	R
On this dank soil thistles muster	T
Thorns are broadcast sown	J2
Seek not figs where thistles cluster	T
Grapes where thorns have grown	J2
	-
Sun and rain and dew from heaven	J2
Light and shade and air	T
Heat and moisture freely given	J2
Thorns and thistles share	T
Vegetation rank and rotten	J2
Feels the cheering ray	T
Not uncared for unforgotten	J2
We too have our day	T
	-
Unforgotten though we cumber	T
Earth we work His will	W
Shall we sleep through night's long slumber	T
Unforgotten still	W
Onward onward toiling ever	T
Weary steps and slow	W
Doubting oft despairing never	T
To the goal we go	W
	-
Hark the bells on distant cattle	W
Waft across the range	T2
Through the golden tufted wattle	W
Music low and strange	T2
Like the marriage peal of fairies	W
Comes the tinkling sound	R
Or like chimes of sweet St Mary's	W
On far English ground	R
How my courser champs the snaffle	W
And with nostril spread	R
Snorts and scarcely seems to ruffle	W
Fern leaves with his tread	R
	-
Cool and pleasant on his haunches	W
Blows the evening breeze	W
Through the overhanging branches	W
Of the wattle trees	W
Onward to the Southern Ocean	J2
Glides the breath of Spring	M2
Onward with a dreary motion	J2
I too glide and sing	M2
Forward forward still we wander	T
Tinted hills that lie	W
In the red horizon yonder	T
Is the goal so nigh	W
	-
Whisper spring wind softly singing	M2
Whisper in my ear	T
Respite and nepenthe bringing	M2
Can the goal be near	T
Laden with the dew of vespers	W
From the fragrant sky	W
In my ear the wind that whispers	W
Seems to make reply	W
	-
Question not but live and labour	T
Till yon goal be won	J2
Helping every feeble neighbour	T
Seeking help from none	J2
Life is mostly froth and bubble	W
Two things stand like stone	J2
Kindness in another's trouble	W
Courage in your own	J2
	-
Courage comrades this is certain	J2
All is for the best	R
There are lights behind the curtain	J2
Gentiles let us rest	R
As the smoke rack veers to seaward	R
From the ancient clay	W
With its moral drifting leeward	R
Ends the wanderer's lay	W

Adam Lindsay Gordon

Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme

Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation

<< Ars Longa - A Song Of Pilgrimage Poem Fragmentary Scenes From The Road To Avernus - An Unpublished Dramatic Lyric Poem>>

Write your comment about Ye Wearie Wayfarer, Hys Ballad - (in Eight Fyttes) poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon

Best Poems of Adam Lindsay Gordon

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 27 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Wonderful Women
by Umaru Kanneh Boima
Freedom To Scratch In Peace
by Olute Aete
Happy New Year
by Felix Menda
Human Beings
by Dana Graslie
Lust
by Wisdom Greatness
An Isolated Tree's Song
by Sayeed Abubakar
A Strange Boy
by Sayeed Abubakar
O Soil
by Sayeed Abubakar
No War, No War-monger
by Sayeed Abubakar
Night's Town
by Sayeed Abubakar

Popular Poets

1. Emily Dickinson(2414 poems)
2. Madison Julius Cawein(1231 poems)
3. Ella Wheeler Wilcox(1136 poems)
4. William Wordsworth(1016 poems)
5. Robert Burns(986 poems)
6. Edgar Albert Guest(945 poems)
7. Thomas Moore(849 poems)
8. Robert Service(831 poems)