Arthur Henry Adams

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The Garden Of The Sea Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPKQRS TUVWX YKZA2B2TMC2D2KC2E2PF 2XG2H2I2D2J2K2

THE infinite garden of the sea is HisA
To play in Gravely smiling He resignsB
To man his choice this rugged plot of earthC
Watches man tear it with his deep canalsD
Wound it with iron rails scar it with roadsE
And spot its pleasant freshness with the soreF
Of festering cities oozing heavy smokeG
He sees and He forgives Then gently takesH
His pliant sea into His yearning handsI
As an old mother might caress a dollJ
When all her sons are dead and wistfullyK
He moulds it O that He might so thrust manL
That interloping soul of stubbornnessM
The solitary irreconcilableN
Of His subservient Universe withinO
The grim unalterable grooves of lawP
But ah the sea the fecund woman seaK
Is His to fashion as He wills He girdsQ
It round with whitely gleaming paths of beachR
Then at His word the blossoms of the sprayS
Rise on their swaying wave stalks bloom and breakT
And scatter desolate petals on the foamU
League long His flower bordered avenuesV
In bending sward of blossom run Lo nowW
A winter comes unwonted heaping highX
-
His garden world with snow of wasted bloomsY
Or Spring sweeps in resistless and the seaK
Shimmers an orchard in her nuptial whiteZ
And sometimes He will smooth His garden plotA2
And cover with trim tapestry of grassB2
Its restless beauty till there shyly breakT
The daisies through like pale hands timorousM
And fragile groping blindly to the sunC2
Sometimes he plans great curving pathways whereD2
'Neath sullen shoulders of cool greeneryK
The shadows crouch and high above the sunC2
Whispers his sunny secrets to the boughsE2
That sway and ripple everlastinglyP
And sometimes hidden by a moving ridgeF2
From ships that flit like furtive white moths byX
The Master of the garden gravely walksG2
The cool green paths in reverie alongH2
Ah what if I could turn into that laneI2
Of pulsing wave and see Him pacing thereD2
As once of old they saw Him with that lookJ2
Of wistful sadness on His old kind faceK2

Arthur Henry Adams



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