In An Almshouse Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABBBBBBCBDEFGHFIJ BKLBMBBNOBBPPB EBQBRSATNBUBVWXYZA2B B2C2D2E2BBF2B BG2HBFH2II2 FBBBBF2BQQPJ2IQK2BB L2LG2QM2BN2NO2QEBEBE BBBP2P2I2BQFFB QQEEQ2BELE BQQQQQR2S2BBT2BQEBQB R2EZFBEU2QV2 QUV2BEFW2BQBQU2QQU2E Q QLQZEBN2X2FEQQN2 BBBQEV2Oh the dear summer evening How the air | A |
is mellow with the delicate breath of flowers | B |
and wafts of hay scent from the sunburnt swathes | B |
how the glad song of life comes everywhence | B |
from thousand harmless voices from blithe birds | B |
that twitter on incessant sweet good nights | B |
from homeward bees that through the clover tufts | B |
stray booming pilfering treasures to the last | C |
from sleepless crickets clamouring in the grass | B |
to tell the world they're happy day and night | D |
from the persistent rooks in their high town | E |
from sheep in far off meadows life life life | F |
it is the song they sing and to my mind | G |
the song is very happy very good | H |
My God I thank thee I have known this life | F |
although I doubt not dying I shall learn | I |
how greater and how happier is death | J |
- | |
Oh beautiful and various earth of ours | B |
how good God made thee Ah I have lost much | K |
mine is a very grey and dim earth now | L |
but I can feel and hear and take in so | B |
the joy of present beauty to my soul | M |
and then I see it there O strange blurred mists | B |
that mean the sky to me my twilight eyes | B |
discern no more than you but I see more | N |
I see this gold and glowing sunset spread | O |
and break the pale blue sky with flashing clouds | B |
I see the shadows soften on the hills | B |
and the green summits brighten one by one | P |
and purple in the nightfall one by one | P |
Oh seeing can be done without the eyes | B |
- | |
Are those St Mary's church bells in the town | E |
How far sound spreads to night St Mary's bells | B |
chiming for evensong I would the way | Q |
were not so over long for feeble limbs | B |
and that the pathway and the still canal | R |
had not so like a glimmer in the dusk | S |
for I could gladly feel the peace of prayer | A |
among the others in the quiet church | T |
with silent graves seen through the open door | N |
and rustling heard of slowly stirring leaves | B |
And then 'tis pleasant too to hear the rhythm | U |
of scholars' English and of words in books | B |
'tis like the voice of some rare foreign tongue | V |
familiar once and loved that howso heard | W |
takes the glad ear with sweetness of old wont | X |
Oh there's no sermon now so trite and crude | Y |
but makes for me a sort of literature | Z |
'tis my one echo now from that far world | A2 |
where books are read and written my world once | B |
I listen as one listens note by note | B2 |
to some great symphony one knows by heart | C2 |
played powerlessly uncertainly with change | D2 |
and thinner chords to suit a learner's hand | E2 |
listening with pleasure part for what there is | B |
and more for what there should be and what was | B |
when long ago one used to hear the strain | F2 |
I seem to love words now because they are words | B |
- | |
Not that I'll call our Vicar's sermon words | B |
no no he loves his God and loves his poor | G2 |
he makes his life one task of doing good | H |
can such a man speak idly What he does | B |
is proof to what he urges his week's life | F |
soul to his Sunday preachings his shown faith | H2 |
the key to his expoundings one may learn | I |
from such a man more things than he can teach | I2 |
- | |
Alas the busy patience of his life | F |
eager and resolute for little things | B |
strenuous on petty labours which no voice | B |
shall ever herald past the parish bounds | B |
which maybe those who see them do not see | B |
and those whose gain they are know not for gain | F2 |
does it not twit me with my languid years | B |
drifted along expectant of a day | Q |
when all my world should thank me I had waked | Q |
My world ah after all a lesser one | P |
than I discerned when I was of it still | J2 |
my world of men who learn and teach and learn | I |
and then have only learned and taught and learned | Q |
my world that has forgotten me a waif | K2 |
floated away from it on too rough tides | B |
left spoiled and stranded to drop piece by piece | B |
- | |
Ah me the difference I have not known | L2 |
what envy means unless I know it now | L |
when in my helplessness sick blind and poor | G2 |
past all fulfilling now with nought fulfilled | Q |
I see our Vicar with his cheery look | M2 |
hurried and overladen with small cares | B |
glad in his work because it is his work | N2 |
And he'll not envy me my garnered lore | N |
stored up for moth and mildew what to him | O2 |
is any wisdom but to work and pray | Q |
the denizens of our rustic market town | E |
which ignorant strangers take and break our hearts | B |
or just a village know no T bingen | E |
have never heard of varying codices | B |
love or love not the Christ of Luke and John | E |
and have no guess of Renan's to their minds | B |
belief and unbelief are simplest things | B |
mere Yes and No and God must side with Yes | B |
as kings must with the loyal But the love | P2 |
that comes of faith and faith that comes of love | P2 |
they can learn those of him and he can teach | I2 |
that plain man ignorant of philosophies | B |
but wise enough to do good all the day | Q |
Ah why was I too weak for such a life | F |
which once I might have chosen A high life | F |
full of most blessed service | B |
- | |
But I thought | Q |
it was not my life meant for me by God | Q |
and now I know not what I should have done | E |
only I mourn that I have lived in vain | E |
still daily dreaming some completed task | Q2 |
that never was begun still waiting force | B |
of impulse more than mine to waken mine | E |
still dimly pondering Shall I Can I How | L |
and waiting to be ready to begin | E |
- | |
Ah tardy useless labourer in the fields | B |
who waits to think what weed he shall rout first | Q |
ah laggard sailor who will not put out | Q |
till the direct fair wind sets for his port | Q |
And time will never linger and the world | Q |
can wait for no man must have its wants fed | Q |
at the want's birth cry soldiers to the gap | R2 |
on the hot instant else no need of you | S2 |
no space for you to stand in Long long since | B |
I thought to have been somewhat to perhaps | B |
set some regardful honour round my name | T2 |
but surely to receive a destined place | B |
a part among the workers for it seemed | Q |
to have so far uptrodden half alone | E |
from peasant lowliness should prelude me | B |
a future as of one of whom they say | Q |
so low he was to show how high he is | B |
Dreams dreams I never had the pith the sap | R2 |
the strong aspiring pulses I was one | E |
to think and shiver by the study fire | Z |
outside is the cold boisterous sea of life | F |
where I will plunge to morrow and snatch pearls | B |
to wait like a late sleeper in the morn | E |
that with a drowsy logic lulls himself | U2 |
and chides his tardiness on their delay | Q |
who will not come to tell him it is time | V2 |
- | |
And yet I did not sleep no to my thought | Q |
I always was at school for work to come | U |
but these days leave us little schooling time | V2 |
Long since and when the wisdom of the wise | B |
was to accept to live one with to learn | E |
and men might find their work for half a life | F |
in thinking silent and the other half | W2 |
in thinking out aloud those were my days | B |
I should have lived in I came out of date | Q |
like a reprinted tome of theories | B |
made reasonably ere the science shaped | Q |
which all uncut stands on the library shelf | U2 |
amid new essays on the daily art | Q |
born long since of the science and men say | Q |
'Tis learned curious looks well on the shelf | U2 |
and take its slighter useful neighbour down | E |
so I showed wise and useless to the world | Q |
- | |
Wise with the oldworld wisdom grown unapt | Q |
to this changed morrow for the lesson now | L |
is to accept to live one with to do | Q |
the wisest wisdom plainly in this stir | Z |
this over crowding this hot hurrying on | E |
that make a tempest of our modern days | B |
This anxious age is driven half mad with work | N2 |
it bids us all work world no need no room | X2 |
for contemplating sages counting life | F |
a time allowed for solving problems in | E |
and its own self a problem to be solved | Q |
on in the rush or be swept out of sight | Q |
on in the rush and find your place and work | N2 |
- | |
'Tis right 'tis very right not only ours | B |
to fit what state God gives us but what times | B |
and he who is thrown out in a fierce race | B |
can hardly chide the others ran too fast | Q |
And as for me if I grow old alone | E |
hid out of memory of springtime | V2 |
Augusta Davies Webster
(1)
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