The Revolutionary Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABC ABD EBF GB HI FJFFAKB FL MBFB FNNB GBOB PO BQR AOAS BQF PF BAOOB FTBU VU FBBBO| Look at them standing there in authority | A |
| The pale faces | B |
| As if it could have any effect any more | C |
| - | |
| Pale face authority | A |
| Caryatids | B |
| Pillars of white bronze standing rigid lest the skies fall | D |
| - | |
| What a job they've got to keep it up | E |
| Their poor idealist foreheads naked capitals | B |
| To the entablature of clouded heaven | F |
| - | |
| When the skies are going to fall fall they will | G |
| In a great chute and rush of d b cle downwards | B |
| - | |
| Oh and I wish the high and super gothic heavens would come down now | H |
| The heavens above that we yearn to and aspire to | I |
| - | |
| I do not yearn nor aspire for I am a blind Samson | F |
| And what is daylight to me that I should look skyward | J |
| Only I grope among you pale faces caryatids as among a forest of pillars that hold up the dome of high ideal heaven | F |
| Which is my prison | F |
| And all these human pillars of loftiness going stiff metallic stunned with the weight of their responsibility | A |
| I stumble against them | K |
| Stumbling blocks painful ones | B |
| - | |
| To keep on holding up this ideal civilisation | F |
| Must be excruciating unless you stiffen into metal when it is easier to stand stock rigid than to move | L |
| - | |
| This is why I tug at them individually with my arm round their waist | M |
| The human pillars | B |
| They are not stronger than I am blind Samson | F |
| The house sways | B |
| - | |
| I shall be so glad when it comes down | F |
| I am so tired of the limitations of their Infinite | N |
| I am so sick of the pretensions of the Spirit | N |
| I am so weary of pale face importance | B |
| - | |
| Am I not blind at the round turning mill | G |
| Then why should I fear their pale faces | B |
| Or love the effulgence of their holy light | O |
| The sun of their righteousness | B |
| - | |
| To me all faces are dark | P |
| All lips are dusky and valved | O |
| - | |
| Save your lips O pale faces | B |
| Which are slips of metal | Q |
| Like slits in an automatic machine you columns of give and take | R |
| - | |
| To me the earth rolls ponderously superbly | A |
| Coming my way without forethought or afterthought | O |
| To me men's footfalls fall with a dull soft rumble ominous and lovely | A |
| Coming my way | S |
| - | |
| But not your foot falls pale faces | B |
| They are a clicketing of bits of disjointed metal | Q |
| Working in motion | F |
| - | |
| To me men are palpable invisible nearnesses in the dark | P |
| Sending out magnetic vibrations of warning pitch dark throbs of invitation | F |
| - | |
| But you pale faces | B |
| You are painful harsh surfaced pillars that give off nothing except rigidity | A |
| And I jut against you if I try to move for you are everywhere and I am blind | O |
| Sightless among all your visuality | O |
| You staring caryatids | B |
| - | |
| See if I don't bring you down and all your high opinion | F |
| And all your ponderous roofed in erection of right and wrong | T |
| Your particular heavens | B |
| With a smash | U |
| - | |
| See if your skies aren't falling | V |
| And my head at least is thick enough to stand it the smash | U |
| - | |
| See if I don't move under a dark and nude vast heaven | F |
| When your world is in ruins under your fallen skies | B |
| Caryatids pale faces | B |
| See if I am not Lord of the dark and moving hosts | B |
| Before I die | O |
David Herbert Lawrence
(1)
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