Meeting Among The Mountains Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCB DEFG HIJI KLML NOPO QRLR STUT NHHH DLVL HWLW NHXH YZZZ

The little pansies by the road have turnedA
Away their purple faces and their goldB
And evening has taken all the bees from the thymeC
And all the scent is shed away by the coldB
-
Against the hard and pale blue evening skyD
The mountain's new dropped summer snow is clearE
Glistening in steadfast stillness like transcendentF
Clean pain sending on us a chill down hereG
-
Chirst on the Cross his beautiful young man's bodyH
Has fallen dead upon the nails and hangsI
White and loose at last with all the painJ
Drawn on his mouth eyes broken at last by his pangsI
-
And slowly down the mountain road belatedK
A bullock wagon comes so I am ashamedL
To gaze any more at the Christ whom the mountain snowsM
Whitely confront I wait on the grass am lamedL
-
The breath of the bullock stains the hard chill airN
The band is across its brow and it scarcely seemsO
To draw the load so still and slow it movesP
While the driver on the shaft sits crouched in dreamsO
-
Surely about his sunburnt face is somethingQ
That vexes me with wonder He sits so stillR
Here among all this silence crouching forwardL
Dreaming and letting the bullock take its willR
-
I stand aside on the grass to let them goS
And Christ I have met his accusing eyes againT
The brown eyes black with misery and hate that lookU
Full in my own and the torment starts againT
-
One moment the hate leaps at me standing thereN
One moment I see the stillness of agonyH
Something frozen in the silence that dare not beH
Loosed one moment the darkness frightens meH
-
Then among the averted pansies beneath the highD
White peaks of snow at the foot of the sunken ChristL
I stand in a chill of anguish trying to sayV
The joy I bought was not too highly pricedL
-
But he has gone motionless hating meH
Living as the mountains do because they are strongW
With a pale dead Christ on the crucifix of his heartL
And breathing the frozen memory of his wrongW
-
Still in his nostrils the frozen breath of despairN
And heart like a cross that bears dead agonyH
Of naked love clenched in his fists the shameX
And in his belly the smouldering hate of meH
-
And I as I stand in the cold averted flowersY
Feel the shame wounds in his hands pierce through my ownZ
And breathe despair that turns my lungs to stoneZ
And know the dead Christ weighing on my boneZ

David Herbert Lawrence



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