Vos Deos Laudamus: The Conservative Journalist's Anthem Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB C DEEDDEEDFFGHHG CCCCCCCCIIGJJG KGGKKGGKLLGMMG| 'As a matter of fact no man living or who ever lived not C sar or Pericles not Shakespeare or Michael Angelo could confer honour more than he took on entering the House of Lords ' | A |
| Saturday Review December | B |
| - | |
| 'Clumsy and shallow snobbery can do no hurt ' | - |
| Ibid | C |
| - | |
| I | - |
| O Lords our Gods beneficent sublime | D |
| In the evening and before the morning flames | E |
| We praise we bless we magnify your names | E |
| The slave is he that serves not his the crime | D |
| And shame who hails not as the crown of Time | D |
| That House wherein the all envious world acclaims | E |
| Such glory that the reflex of it shames | E |
| All crowns bestowed of men for prose or rhyme | D |
| The serf the cur the sycophant is he | F |
| Who feels no cringing motion twitch his knee | F |
| When from a height too high for Shakespeare nods | G |
| The wearer of a higher than Milton's crown | H |
| Stoop Chaucer stoop Keats Shelley Burns bow down | H |
| These have no part with you O Lords our Gods | G |
| - | |
| II | - |
| O Lords our Gods it is not that ye sit | C |
| Serene above the thunder and exempt | C |
| From strife of tongues and casualties that tempt | C |
| Men merely found by proof of manhood fit | C |
| For service of their fellows this is it | C |
| Which sets you past the reach of Time's attempt | C |
| Which gives us right of justified contempt | C |
| For commonwealths built up by mere men's wit | C |
| That gold unlocks not nor may flatteries ope | I |
| The portals of your heaven that none may hope | I |
| With you to watch how life beneath you plods | G |
| Save for high service given high duty done | J |
| That never was your rank ignobly won | J |
| For this we give you praise O Lords our Gods | G |
| - | |
| III | - |
| O Lords our Gods the times are evil you | K |
| Redeem the time because of evil days | G |
| While abject souls in servitude of praise | G |
| Bow down to heads untitled and the crew | K |
| Whose honour dwells but in the deeds they do | K |
| From loftier hearts your nobler servants raise | G |
| More manful salutation yours are bays | G |
| That not the dawn's plebeian pearls bedew | K |
| Yours laurels plucked not of such hands as wove | L |
| Old age its chaplet in Colonos' grove | L |
| Our time with heaven and with itself at odds | G |
| Makes all lands else as seas that seethe and boil | M |
| But yours are yet the corn and wine and oil | M |
| And yours our worship yet O Lords our Gods | G |
Algernon Charles Swinburne
(1)
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