The Miracle Of Padre Junipero Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB CCDEDDEEFFBBGGBB HHIIJKJK FFLLBBFF MMFFMFMF FFNNFFOOEEDDPP FBBFDDBBBBQQQ FFFFEEGGR ASBB| This is the tale that the Chronicle | A |
| Tells of the wonderful miracle | A |
| Wrought by the pious Padre Serro | B |
| The very reverend Junipero | B |
| - | |
| The heathen stood on his ancient mound | C |
| Looking over the desert bound | C |
| Into the distant hazy South | D |
| Over the dusty and broad champaign | E |
| Where with many a gaping mouth | D |
| And fissure cracked by the fervid drouth | D |
| For seven months had the wasted plain | E |
| Known no moisture of dew or rain | E |
| The wells were empty and choked with sand | F |
| The rivers had perished from the land | F |
| Only the sea fogs to and fro | B |
| Slipped like ghosts of the streams below | B |
| Deep in its bed lay the river's bones | G |
| Bleaching in pebbles and milk white stones | G |
| And tracked o'er the desert faint and far | B |
| Its ribs shone bright on each sandy bar | B |
| - | |
| Thus they stood as the sun went down | H |
| Over the foot hills bare and brown | H |
| Thus they looked to the South wherefrom | I |
| The pale face medicine man should come | I |
| Not in anger or in strife | J |
| But to bring so ran the tale | K |
| The welcome springs of eternal life | J |
| The living waters that should not fail | K |
| - | |
| Said one He will come like Manitou | F |
| Unseen unheard in the falling dew | F |
| Said another He will come full soon | L |
| Out of the round faced watery moon | L |
| And another said He is here and lo | B |
| Faltering staggering feeble and slow | B |
| Out from the desert's blinding heat | F |
| The Padre dropped at the heathen's feet | F |
| - | |
| They stood and gazed for a little space | M |
| Down on his pallid and careworn face | M |
| And a smile of scorn went round the band | F |
| As they touched alternate with foot and hand | F |
| This mortal waif that the outer space | M |
| Of dim mysterious sky and sand | F |
| Flung with so little of Christian grace | M |
| Down on their barren sterile strand | F |
| - | |
| Said one to him It seems thy God | F |
| Is a very pitiful kind of God | F |
| He could not shield thine aching eyes | N |
| From the blowing desert sands that rise | N |
| Nor turn aside from thy old gray head | F |
| The glittering blade that is brandished | F |
| By the sun He set in the heavens high | O |
| He could not moisten thy lips when dry | O |
| The desert fire is in thy brain | E |
| Thy limbs are racked with the fever pain | E |
| If this be the grace He showeth thee | D |
| Who art His servant what may we | D |
| Strange to His ways and His commands | P |
| Seek at His unforgiving hands | P |
| - | |
| Drink but this cup said the Padre straight | F |
| And thou shalt know whose mercy bore | B |
| These aching limbs to your heathen door | B |
| And purged my soul of its gross estate | F |
| Drink in His name and thou shalt see | D |
| The hidden depths of this mystery | D |
| Drink and he held the cup One blow | B |
| From the heathen dashed to the ground below | B |
| The sacred cup that the Padre bore | B |
| And the thirsty soil drank the precious store | B |
| Of sacramental and holy wine | Q |
| That emblem and consecrated sign | Q |
| And blessed symbol of blood divine | Q |
| - | |
| Then says the legend and they who doubt | F |
| The same as heretics be accurst | F |
| From the dry and feverish soil leaped out | F |
| A living fountain a well spring burst | F |
| Over the dusty and broad champaign | E |
| Over the sandy and sterile plain | E |
| Till the granite ribs and the milk white stones | G |
| That lay in the valley the scattered bones | G |
| Moved in the river and lived again | R |
| - | |
| Such was the wonderful miracle | A |
| Wrought by the cup of wine that fell | S |
| From the hands of the pious Padre Serro | B |
| The very reverend Junipero | B |
Bret Harte
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Miracle Of Padre Junipero poem by Bret Harte
Best Poems of Bret Harte