A Litany Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABABCDCD AAEAECDCD AFAGAHIHI AFAGAHEHE ABBBBJCJC AEEEEJCJC AKLKLMKMK BNBNBKBK AKLKLMKMK BNBNBKBK AKEKEOKOK KKKKKOKO PQPQAKAK AKEKEOKOK KKKKKOKO PEPEAKAK

FIRST ANTIPHONEA
ALL the bright lights of heavenA
I will make dark over theeB
One night shall be as sevenA
That its skirts may cover theeB
I will send on thy strong men a swordC
On thy remnant a rodD
Ye shall know that I am the LordC
Saith the Lord GodD
-
SECOND ANTIPHONEA
All the bright lights of heavenA
Thou hast made dark over usE
One night has been as sevenA
That its skirt might cover usE
Thou hast sent on our strong men a swordC
On our remnant a rodD
We know that thou art the LordC
O Lord our GodD
-
THIRD ANTIPHONEA
As the tresses and wings of the windF
Are scattered and shakenA
I will scatter all them that have sinnedG
There shall none be takenA
As a sower that scattereth seedH
So will I scatter themI
As one breaketh and shattereth a reedH
I will break and shatter themI
-
FOURTH ANTIPHONEA
As the wings and the locks of the windF
Are scattered and shakenA
Thou hast scattered all them that have sinnedG
There was no man takenA
As a sower that scattereth seedH
So hast thou scattered usE
As one breaketh and shattereth a reedH
Thou hast broken and shattered usE
-
FIFTH ANTIPHONEA
From all thy lovers that love theeB
I God will sunder theeB
I will make darkness above theeB
And thick darkness under theeB
Before me goeth a lightJ
Behind me a swordC
Shall a remnant find grace in my sightJ
I am the LordC
-
SIXTH ANTIPHONEA
From all our lovers that love usE
Thou God didst sunder usE
Thou madest darkness above usE
And thick darkness under usE
Thou hast kindled thy wrath for a lightJ
And made ready thy swordC
Let a remnant find grace in thy sightJ
We beseech thee O LordC
-
SEVENTH ANTIPHONEA
Wilt thou bring fine gold for a paymentK
For sins on this wiseL
For the glittering of raimentK
And the shining of eyesL
For the painting of facesM
And the sundering of trustK
For the sins of thine high placesM
And delight of thy lustK
-
For your high things ye shall have lowlyB
Lamentation for songN
For behold I God am holyB
I the Lord am strongN
Ye shall seek me and shall not reach meB
Till the wine press be trodK
In that hour ye shall turn and beseech meB
Saith the Lord GodK
-
EIGHTH ANTIPHONEA
Not with fine gold for a paymentK
But with coin of sighsL
But with rending of raimentK
And with weeping of eyesL
But with shame of stricken facesM
And with strewing of dustK
For the sin of stately placesM
And lordship of lustK
-
With voices of men made lowlyB
Made empty of songN
O Lord God most holyB
O God most strongN
We reach out hands to reach theeB
Ere the wine press be trodK
We beseech thee O Lord we beseech theeB
O Lord our GodK
-
NINTH ANTIPHONEA
In that hour thou shalt say to the nightK
Come down and cover usE
To the cloud on thy left and thy rightK
Be thou spread over usE
A snare shall be as thy motherO
And a curse thy brideK
Thou shalt put her away and anotherO
Shall lie by thy sideK
-
Thou shalt neither rise up by dayK
Nor lie down by nightK
Would God it were dark thou shalt sayK
Would God it were lightK
And the sight of thine eyes shall be madeK
As the burning of fireO
And thy soul shall be sorely afraidK
For thy soul s desireO
-
Ye whom your lords loved wellP
Putting silver and gold on youQ
The inevitable hellP
Shall surely take hold on youQ
Your gold shall be for a tokenA
Your staff for a rodK
With the breaking of bands ye are brokenA
Saith the Lord GodK
-
TENTH ANTIPHONEA
In our sorrow we said to the nightK
Fall down and cover usE
To the darkness at left and at rightK
Be thou shed over usE
We had breaking of spirit to motherO
And cursing to brideK
And one was slain and anotherO
Stood up at our sideK
-
We could not arise by dayK
Nor lie down by nightK
Thy sword was sharp in our wayK
Thy word in our sightK
The delight of our eyelids was madeK
As the burning of fireO
And our souls became sorely afraidK
For our soul s desireO
-
We whom the world loved wellP
Laying silver and gold on usE
The kingdom of death and of hellP
Riseth up to take hold on usE
Our gold is turned to a tokenA
Our staff to a rodK
Yet shalt thou bind them up that were brokenA
O Lord our GodK

Algernon Charles Swinburne



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