St. Simeon Stylites Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGB HIJEKLMNOPQR STUGVD W XYZA2B2C2D2E2F2G2H2A NI2F2J2K2B L2M2N2F2O2P2BN2O2ZQ2 R2S2H T2U2GV2W2X2L2BY2Z2Y2 DP2ZA3B3C3D3E3F3G3AH BB DF2H3I3I2Z2J3 Z2K3L3M3 B W2 ZN3L3I2Y2ZL3 L3 ZO3ZL3ZL3ZZP3L3L3Q3R 3ZL3B G2BBZS3L3L3ZI2I2ZZ DZY2ZL3ZL3DL3L3BT3 DL3ZL2DL3ZL3 U3ZO2BY2Z Z E3BL3ZH2BE3L3ZV3W3DB L3ZX3BL3L3ZL3ZBUZL3L 3L3ZBZZY3L3L3ZZ BZ3A4L3L3I2H2N3BL3BD ZZL3B L3DL3R2L3L3L3H3 L3 B4L3| Altho' I be the basest of mankind | A |
| From scalp to sole one slough and crust of sin | B |
| Unfit for earth unfit for heaven scarce meet | C |
| For troops of devils mad with blasphemy | D |
| I will not cease to grasp the hope I hold | E |
| Of saintdom and to clamour mourn and sob | F |
| Battering the gates of heaven with storms of prayer | G |
| Have mercy Lord and take away my sin | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| Let this avail just dreadful mighty God | H |
| This not be all in vain that thrice ten years | I |
| Thrice multiplied by superhuman pangs | J |
| In hungers and in thirsts fevers and cold | E |
| In coughs aches stitches ulcerous throes and cramps | K |
| A sign betwixt the meadow and the cloud | L |
| Patient on this tall pillar I have borne | M |
| Rain wind frost heat hail damp and sleet and snow | N |
| And I had hoped that ere this period closed | O |
| Thou wouldst have caught me up into thy rest | P |
| Denying not these weather beaten limbs | Q |
| The meed of saints the white robe and the palm | R |
| - | |
| - | |
| O take the meaning Lord I do not breathe | S |
| Not whisper any murmur of complaint | T |
| Pain heap'd ten hundred fold to this were still | U |
| Less burthen by ten hundred fold to bear | G |
| Than were those lead like tons of sin that crush'd | V |
| My spirit flat before thee | D |
| - | |
| O Lord Lord | W |
| - | |
| Thou knowest I bore this better at the first | X |
| For I was strong and hale of body then | Y |
| And tho' my teeth which now are dropt away | Z |
| Would chatter with the cold and all my beard | A2 |
| Was tagg'd with icy fringes in the moon | B2 |
| I drown'd the whoopings of the owl with sound | C2 |
| Of pious hymns and psalms and sometimes saw | D2 |
| An angel stand and watch me as I sang | E2 |
| Now am I feeble grown my end draws nigh | F2 |
| I hope my end draws nigh half deaf I am | G2 |
| So that I scarce can hear the people hum | H2 |
| About the column's base and almost blind | A |
| And scarce can recognise the fields I know | N |
| And both my thighs are rotted with the dew | I2 |
| Yet cease I not to clamour and to cry | F2 |
| While my stiff spine can hold my weary head | J2 |
| Till all my limbs drop piecemeal from the stone | K2 |
| Have mercy mercy take away my sin | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| O Jesus if thou wilt not save my soul | L2 |
| Who may be saved who is it may be saved | M2 |
| Who may be made a saint if I fail here | N2 |
| Show me the man hath suffer'd more than I | F2 |
| For did not all thy martyrs die one death | O2 |
| For either they were stoned or crucified | P2 |
| Or burn'd in fire or boil'd in oil or sawn | B |
| In twain beneath the ribs but I die here | N2 |
| To day and whole years long a life of death | O2 |
| Bear witness if I could have found a way | Z |
| And heedfully I sifted all my thought | Q2 |
| More slowly painful to subdue this home | R2 |
| Of sin my flesh which I despise and hate | S2 |
| I had not stinted practice O my God | H |
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| - | |
| For not alone this pillar punishment | T2 |
| Not this alone I bore but while I lived | U2 |
| In the white convent down the valley there | G |
| For many weeks about my loins I wore | V2 |
| The rope that haled the buckets from the well | W2 |
| Twisted as tight as I could knot the noose | X2 |
| And spake not of it to a single soul | L2 |
| Until the ulcer eating thro' my skin | B |
| Betray'd my secret penance so that all | Y2 |
| My brethren marvell'd greatly More than this | Z2 |
| I bore whereof O God thou knowest all | Y2 |
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| - | |
| Three winters that my soul might grow to thee | D |
| I lived up there on yonder mountain side | P2 |
| My right leg chain'd into the crag I lay | Z |
| Pent in a roofless close of ragged stones | A3 |
| Inswathed sometimes in wandering mist and twice | B3 |
| Black'd with thy branding thunder and sometimes | C3 |
| Sucking the damps for drink and eating not | D3 |
| Except the spare chance gift of those that came | E3 |
| To touch my body and be heal'd and live | F3 |
| And they say then that I work'd miracles | G3 |
| Whereof my fame is loud amongst mankind | A |
| Cured lameness palsies cancers Thou O God | H |
| Knowest alone whether this was or no | B |
| Have mercy mercy cover all my sin | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| Then that I might be more alone with thee | D |
| Three years I lived upon a pillar high | F2 |
| Six cubits and three years on one of twelve | H3 |
| And twice three years I crouch'd on one that rose | I3 |
| Twenty by measure last of all I grew | I2 |
| Twice ten long weary weary years to this | Z2 |
| That numbers forty cubits from the soil | J3 |
| - | |
| - | |
| I think that I have borne as much as this | Z2 |
| Or else I dream and for so long a time | K3 |
| If I may measure time by yon slow light | L3 |
| And this high dial which my sorrow crowns | M3 |
| - | |
| So much even so | B |
| - | |
| And yet I know not well | W2 |
| - | |
| For that the evil ones come here and say | Z |
| 'Fall down O Simeon thou hast suffer'd long | N3 |
| For ages and for ages ' then they prate | L3 |
| Of penances I cannot have gone thro' | I2 |
| Perplexing me with lies and oft I fall | Y2 |
| Maybe for months in such blind lethargies | Z |
| That Heaven and Earth and Time are choked | L3 |
| - | |
| But yet | L3 |
| - | |
| Bethink thee Lord while thou and all the saints | Z |
| Enjoy themselves in heaven and men on earth | O3 |
| House in the shade of comfortable roofs | Z |
| Sit with their wives by fires eat wholesome food | L3 |
| And wear warm clothes and even beasts have stalls | Z |
| I 'tween the spring and downfall of the light | L3 |
| Bow down one thousand and two hundred times | Z |
| To Christ the Virgin Mother and the saints | Z |
| Or in the night after a little sleep | P3 |
| I wake the chill stars sparkle I am wet | L3 |
| With drenching dews or stiff with crackling frost | L3 |
| I wear an undress'd goatskin on my back | Q3 |
| A grazing iron collar grinds my neck | R3 |
| And in my weak lean arms I lift the cross | Z |
| And strive and wrestle with thee till I die | L3 |
| O mercy mercy wash away my sin | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| O Lord thou knowest what a man I am | G2 |
| A sinful man conceived and born in sin | B |
| 'Tis their own doing this is none of mine | B |
| Lay it not to me Am I to blame for this | Z |
| That here come those that worship me Ha ha | S3 |
| They think that I am somewhat What am I | L3 |
| The silly people take me for a saint | L3 |
| And bring me offerings of fruit and flowers | Z |
| And I in truth thou wilt bear witness here | I2 |
| Have all in all endured as much and more | I2 |
| Than many just and holy men whose names | Z |
| Are register'd and calendar'd for saints | Z |
| - | |
| - | |
| Good people you do ill to kneel to me | D |
| What is it I can have done to merit this | Z |
| I am a sinner viler than you all | Y2 |
| It may be I have wrought some miracles | Z |
| And cured some halt and maim'd but what of that | L3 |
| It may be no one even among the saints | Z |
| May match his pains with mine but what of that | L3 |
| Yet do not rise for you may look on me | D |
| And in your looking you may kneel to God | L3 |
| Speak is there any of you halt or maim'd | L3 |
| I think you know I have some power with Heaven | B |
| From my long penance let him speak his wish | T3 |
| - | |
| - | |
| Yes I can heal him Power goes forth from me | D |
| They say that they are heal'd Ah hark they shout | L3 |
| 'St Simeon Stylites ' Why if so | Z |
| God reaps a harvest in me O my soul | L2 |
| God reaps a harvest in thee If this be | D |
| Can I work miracles and not be saved | L3 |
| This is not told of any They were saints | Z |
| It cannot be but that I shall be saved | L3 |
| Yea crown'd a saint They shout 'Behold a saint ' | - |
| And lower voices saint me from above | U3 |
| Courage St Simeon This dull chrysalis | Z |
| Cracks into shining wings and hope ere death | O2 |
| Spreads more and more and more that God hath now | B |
| Sponged and made blank of crimeful record all | Y2 |
| My mortal archives | Z |
| - | |
| O my sons my sons | Z |
| - | |
| I Simeon of the pillar by surname | E3 |
| Stylites among men I Simeon | B |
| The watcher on the column till the end | L3 |
| I Simeon whose brain the sunshine bakes | Z |
| I whose bald brows in silent hours become | H2 |
| Unnaturally hoar with rime do now | B |
| From my high nest of penance here proclaim | E3 |
| That Pontius and Iscariot by my side | L3 |
| Show'd like fair seraphs On the coals I lay | Z |
| A vessel full of sin all hell beneath | V3 |
| Made me boil over Devils pluck'd my sleeve | W3 |
| Abaddon and Asmodeus caught at me | D |
| I smote them with the cross they swarm'd again | B |
| In bed like monstrous apes they crush'd my chest | L3 |
| They flapp'd my light out as I read I saw | Z |
| Their faces grow between me and my book | X3 |
| With colt like whinny and with hoggish whine | B |
| They burst my prayer Yet this way was left | L3 |
| And by this way I 'scaped them Mortify | L3 |
| Your flesh like me with scourges and with thorns | Z |
| Smite shrink not spare not If it may be fast | L3 |
| Whole Lents and pray I hardly with slow steps | Z |
| With slow faint steps and much exceeding pain | B |
| Have scrambled past those pits of fire that still | U |
| Sing in mine ears But yield not me the praise | Z |
| God only thro' his bounty hath thought fit | L3 |
| Among the powers and princes of this world | L3 |
| To make me an example to mankind | L3 |
| Which few can reach to Yet I do not say | Z |
| But that a time may come yea even now | B |
| Now now his footsteps smite the threshold stairs | Z |
| Of life I say that time is at the doors | Z |
| When you may worship me without reproach | Y3 |
| For I will leave my relics in your land | L3 |
| And you may carve a shrine about my dust | L3 |
| And burn a fragrant lamp before my bones | Z |
| When I am gather'd to the glorious saints | Z |
| - | |
| - | |
| While I spake then a sting of shrewdest pain | B |
| Ran shrivelling thro' me and a cloudlike change | Z3 |
| In passing with a grosser film made thick | A4 |
| These heavy horny eyes The end the end | L3 |
| Surely the end What's here a shape a shade | L3 |
| A flash of light Is that the angel there | I2 |
| That holds a crown Come blessed brother come | H2 |
| I know thy glittering face I waited long | N3 |
| My brows are ready What deny it now | B |
| Nay draw draw draw nigh So I clutch it Christ | L3 |
| 'Tis gone 'tis here again the crown the crown | B |
| So now 'tis fitted on and grows to me | D |
| And from it melt the dews of Paradise | Z |
| Sweet sweet spikenard and balm and frankincense | Z |
| Ah let me not be fool'd sweet saints I trust | L3 |
| That I am whole and clean and meet for Heaven | B |
| - | |
| - | |
| Speak if there be a priest a man of God | L3 |
| Among you there and let him presently | D |
| Approach and lean a ladder on the shaft | L3 |
| And climbing up into my airy home | R2 |
| Deliver me the blessed sacrament | L3 |
| For by the warning of the Holy Ghost | L3 |
| I prophesy that I shall die to night | L3 |
| A quarter before twelve | H3 |
| - | |
| But thou O Lord | L3 |
| - | |
| Aid all this foolish people let them take | B4 |
| Example pattern lead them to thy light | L3 |
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(1)
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About St. Simeon Stylites
St. Simeon Stylites is a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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