A Dilettante Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Good friend be patient goes the world awry	A
well can you groove it straight with all your pains	B
and sigh or scold and argue or intreat	C
what have you done but waste your part of life	D
on impotent fool's battles with the winds	E
that will blow as they list in spite of you	F
	-
Fie I am weary of your pettish griefs	E
against the world that's given like a child	C
who whines and pules because his bread's not cake	G
because the roses have those ugly thorns	E
that prick if he's not careful of his hands	E
Oh foolish spite what talk you of the world	C
and mean the men and women and the sin	H
Oh friend these all pass by and God remains	E
and God has made a world that pleases Him	I
and when He wills then He will better it	C
let it suffice us as he wills it now	J
	-
Nay hush and look and listen For this noon	K
this summer noon replies but be content	C
speaking in voices of a hundred joys	E
	-
For lo we lying on this mossy knoll	L
tasting the vivid musk of sheltering pines	E
and balm of odorous flowers and sweet warm air	M
feeling the uncadenced music of slow leaves	E
and ripples in the brook athwart its stones	E
and birds that call each other in the brakes	E
with sudden questions and smooth long replies	E
the gossip of the incessant grasshoppers	E
and the contented hum of laden bees	E
we knowing with the easy restful eye	A
that whichsoever way it turns is filled	C
with unexacting beauty this smooth sky	A
blue with our English placid silvery blue	F
mottled with little lazy clouds this stretch	N
of dappled wealds and green and saffron slopes	E
and near us these gnarled elm trunks barred with gold	C
and ruddy pine boles where the slumbrous beams	E
have slipped through the translucent leafy net	C
to break the shimmering dimness of the wood	C
we who like licensed truants from light tasks	E
which lightly can be banished out of mind	C
have all ourselves to give to idleness	E
were more unreasoning if we make moan	O
of miseries and toils and barrenness	E
than if we sitting at a feast told tales	E
of famines and for the pity of them starved	C
	-
Oh life is good when on such summer days	E
we linger in the dreamful paradise	E
that lies at every door where so much space	E
is left to garner in the languid air	M
as grass may grow in and some verdurous tree	P
and some few yards of blueness and of clouds	E
may stretch above making immensity	C
when lost out of our petty unit selves	E
the heart grows large in the grave trance of peace	E
and all things breathing growing are its kin	H
and all the fair and blossoming earth is home	Q
	-
And beauty is our lesson for look there	M
that exquisite curve and cluster of rich leaves	E
emerald and shadow in that patch of sun	R
what is it but a nettle And that knoll	L
of woven green where all fantastic grace	E
of shaggy stems and lush and trailing shoots	E
and all a thousand delicate varied tints	E
are mingled in a wanton symmetry	P
what is it but a thorn and bramble copse	E
And that far plain on which through all the day	C
change still grows lovelier and every cloud	C
makes different softer dimness every light	C
an other coloured glory what is it	C
a desolate barren waste marshland and moor	S
And in some other moment when the rain	T
spurts greyly downwards on the soddening fields	E
or the dank autumn fog veils leaden skies	E
or the keen baleful east winds nip the bloom	U
of frightened spring with bleak and parching chills	E
the waste the thorns the nettle each would seem	V
cursed with the unloveliness of evil things	E
	-
So beauty comes and goes yet beauty is	E
a message out of Heaven can it speak	W
from evil things I know not but I know	X
that waste and thorns and nettle are to day	C
teachers of Love a prospect not to change	Y
for use against a fifty miles of corn	Z
Can we tell good from evil you and I	A
	-
Oh if the men and women of to day	C
seem ill or good to us why what know we	P
to morrow they or those who follow them	A2
will seem another way and are they changed	C
or are the eyes that see them Let them be	P
are we divine that we should judge and rule	B2
And they are not the world by several selves	E
but in a gathered whole and if that whole	L
drift heavenward or hellward God can see	P
not we who ants hived in our colonies	E
count the world loam or gravel stocked with flowers	E
or weeds or cabbages as we shall find	C
within our own small ranges and being wise	E
and full of care for all the universe	E
wonder and blame and theorize and plan	C2
by the broad guide of our experiences	E
	-
'Twere a neat world if levelled by the ants	E
no ridges no rough gaps all fined and soft	C
But I will rather use my antish wits	E
in smoothing just my cell and at my doors	E
than join in such heroic enterprise	E
	-
Selfish you call me callous Hear a tale	D2
There was a little shallow brook that ran	C2
between low banks scarcely a child's leap wide	C
feeding a foot or two of bordering grass	E
and here and there some tufts of waterflowers	E
and cresses and tall sedge rushes and reeds	E
and where it bubbled past a poor man's cot	C
he and his household came and drank of it	C
and all the children loved it for its flowers	E
and counted it a playmate made for them	A2
but not far off a sandy arid waste	C
where when a winged seed rested or a bird	C
would drop a grain in passing and it grew	F
it presently must droop and die athirst	C
spread its scorched silent leagues to the fierce sun	R
and once a learned man came by and saw	E
and lo said he what space for corn to grow	X
could we send vivifying moistures here	E2
while look this wanton misdirected brook	F2
watering its useless weeds so had it turned	C
and made a channel for it through the waste	C
but its small waters could not feed that drought	C
and in the wide unshadowed plain it lagged	C
and shrank away sucked upwards of the sun	R
and downwards of the sands so the new bed	C
lay dry and dry the old and the parched reeds	E
grew brown and dwined the stunted rushes drooped	C
the cresses could not root in that slacked soil	G2
the blossoms and the sedges died away	C
the greenness shrivelled from the dusty banks	E
the children missed their playmate and the flowers	E
and thirsted in hot noon tides for the draught	C
grown over precious now their mother went	C
a half mile to the well to fill her pails	E
and not two ears of corn the more were green	H2
	-
Tell me what should I do I take my life	D
as I have found it and the work it brings	E
well and the life is kind the work is light	C
shall I go fret and scorn myself for that	C
and must I sally forth to hack and hew	F
at giants or at windmills leave the post	C
I could have filled the work I could have wrought	C
for some magnificent mad enterprise	E
some task to lift a mountain drain a sea	E
tread down a Titan build a pyramid	C
No let me like a bird bred in the cage	I2
that singing its own self to gladness there	M
makes some who hear it gladder take what part	C
I have been born to and make joy of it	C
	-
Grumbler what are you muttering in your beard	C
You've a bird likeness too to shew me in	H
I take life as a sea gull takes the sea	E
mere skimmingly I say no otherwise	E
'tis a wise bird the sea gull does but taste	C
the hale and briny freshness of the spray	C
what would you have me do plunge in and drown	J2
	-
Oh chiding friend I am not of your kind	C
you strenuous souls who cannot think you live	K2
unless you feel your limbs though 'twere by aches	E
great boisterous winds you are who must rush on	L2
and sweep all on your way or drop and die	C
but I am only a small fluttering breeze	E
to coax the roses open let me be	E
perhaps I have my use no less than you	F
	-
Ah well How strange that you and I who tread	C
so same a path perceive it so unlike	M2
And which sees justly Maybe both of us	E
or maybe one of us is colour blind	C
and sees the tintings blurred or sees them false	E
or does not see so misses what they shew	F
Or likelier each of us is colour blind	C
and sees the world his own way fit for him	I
doubtless we afterwards shall un	R

Augusta Davies Webster

A Dilettante Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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