The Voice Calling Poem Rhyme Scheme

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IN the hush of April weather	A
With the bees in budding heather	A
And the white clouds floating floating and the sunshine falling broad	B
While my children down the hill	C
Run and leap and I sit still	C
Through the silence through the silence art Thou calling O my God	D
	-
Through my husband's voice that prayeth	E
Though he knows not what he sayeth	E
Is it Thou who in Thy Holy Word hast solemn words for me	F
And when he clasps me fast	G
And smiles fondly o'er the past	G
And talks hopeful of the future Lord do I hear only Thee	F
	-
Not in terror nor in thunder	A
Comes Thy voice although it sunder	A
Flesh from spirit soul from body human bliss from human pain	H
All the work that was to do	I
All the joys so sweet and new	I
Which Thou shewed'st me in a vision Moses like and hid'st again	J
	-
From this Pisgah lying humbled	K
The long desert where I stumbled	K
And the fair plains I shall never reach seem equal clear and far	L
On this mountain top of ease	M
Thou wilt bury me in peace	N
While my tribes march onward unto Canaan and war	O
	-
In my boy's loud laughter ringing	P
In the sigh more soft than singing	P
Of my baby girl that nestles up unto this mortal breast	Q
After every voice most dear	R
Comes a whisper 'Rest not here '	-
And the rest Thou art preparing is it best Lord is it best	Q
	-
'Lord a little little longer '	-
Sobs the earth love growing stronger	A
He will miss me and go mourning through his solitary days	S
And heaven were scarcely heaven	T
If these lambs which Thou hast given	T
Were to slip out of our keeping and be lost in the world's ways	S
	-
Lord it is not fear of dying	P
Nor an impious denying	P
Of Thy will which forevermore on earth in heaven be done	T
But the love that desperate clings	U
Unto these my precious things	U
In the beauty of the daylight and the glory of the sun	T
	-
Ah Thou still art calling calling	P
With a soft voice unappalling	P
And it vibrates in far circles through the everlasting years	V
When Thou knockest even so	W
I will arise and go	W
What m little ones more violets Nay be patient mother hears	X

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The Voice Calling Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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