The Silver Box Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCB DEFE FGHG IJKL MNON PQKQ RNSN TUVU WXYX ZNSN TDA2D B2C2D2C2 ZNE2N F2G2NG2 H2I2ZI2 INJ2N IJKL

Old tales of valour fire our bloodA
But this the bravest deed I knowB
Is written of our modern timesC
No myth of long agoB
-
It was a convent grim and greyD
Whose vine clad balconies looked downE
On stately old Colonial homesF
Of a fair Southern townE
-
And daughters of those grand old homesF
Dwelt humble Nuns within its shadeG
Serving their Lord with zealous heartsH
Joyous and unafraidG
-
From the dear Rectress staid and oldI
To the small novice whose sweet eyesJ
Held the soft blue of Mary s cloakK
Or flowers of ParadiseL
-
Peaceful and holy ran their livesM
Hallowed by sacrifice and prayerN
Until one summer day did comeO
A fateful message thereN
-
A letter from a brave young PriestP
The Rectress nephew who long whileQ
Had toiled alone mid leper folkK
In a West Indian IsleQ
-
The horrors of that festering hellR
He told Ah There were women thereN
Deep sunk in suffering and in sinS
Who needed women s careN
-
The good Nun read with blanching faceT
And well her wisdom could divineU
The cry for help he dared not askV
The breathed in every lineU
-
She could not bid her daughters lovedW
Such awful sacrifice to makeX
But should one feel impelled to giveY
Her life for Jesus sakeX
-
I ll place She said this silver boxZ
Before the chapel alter whereN
Such one may place her name thereinS
In quiet and secret thereN
-
The convent was a silent placeT
For all that long long summer dayD
Though in the garden old the beesA2
Hummed round nasturtiums gayD
-
But tasks were done and prayers were saidB2
In thoughtful silence faithfullyC2
The merry little novice e enD2
Went slowly and solemnlyC2
-
A thing of fate the little boxZ
Lay bright upon the alter stairN
The silver lamp before Our LordE2
Shone on it sparkling thereN
-
Next morn they waited after MassF2
To hear the chaplain grave proclaimG2
On opening the casket thereN
If it held any nameG2
-
And in the rear a little groupH2
Off anxious fathers mothers paleI2
Who knew the story of the boxZ
Waited to hear the taleI2
-
Oh Wondrous faith of Peter s foldI
That can such fruitage bearN
The little box was very fullJ2
No name was missing thereN
-
From the dear Rectress staid and oldI
To the small novice who bright eyesJ
Mirrored the blue of Mary s cloakK
Of flowers of ParadiseL

Alice Guerin Crist



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