At Last Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEFFGHHHFIJI FH HHKLMLNOFOHPFP HQRQHSQS TUVWHRTRFFRFXYHYFZA2 ZHPFP XFFFHFOFB2PHP

Each race has died and lived and fought for theA
true gods of that poor raceB
Unconsciously divinest thought of each race gildC
ing its god's faceB
And every race that lives and dies shall make itselfD
some other godsE
Shall build with mingled truth and lies new iconsF
from the world old clodsF
Through all the tangled creeds and dreams andG
shifting shibboleths men holdH
The false and true inwoven gleams a mattedH
mass of dross and goldH
Prove then thy gods in thine own soul all others'F
gods for thee are vainI
Nor swerved be struggling for the goal by bribeJ
of joy nor threat of painI
-
As skulls grow broader so do faiths as old tonguesF
die old gods die tooH
-
And only ghosts of gods and wraiths may meetH
the backward gazer's viewH
Where where the faiths of yesterday AhK
whither vanished whither goneL
Say what Apollos drive to day adown the flamingM
slopes of dawnL
Oh does the blank past hide from view forgottenN
Christs to be rebornO
The future tremble where some new MessiahF
Memnon sings the mornO
Of all the worlds say any earth like dust windH
harried to and froP
Shall give the next Prometheus birth but sayF
at last you do not knowP
-
How should I know what dawn may gleam beyondH
the gates of darkness thereQ
Which god of all the gods men dream WhyR
should I whip myself to careQ
Whichever over all hath place hath shaped andH
made me what I amS
Hath made me strong to front his face to dareQ
to question though he damnS
-
Perhaps to cringe and cower and bring a shrineT
a forced and faithless faithU
Is far more futile than to fling your laughter inV
the face of DeathW
For writhe or whirl in dervish rout they are notH
flattered there on highR
Or sham belief to hide a doubt no gods are mineT
that love a lieR
Nor gods that beg belief on earth with portentsF
that some seer foretellsF
Is life itself not wonder worth that we must cryR
for miraclesF
Is it not strange enough we breathe Does everyX
thing not God revealY
Or must we ever weave and wreathe some creedH
that shall his face concealY
Some creed of which its prophets cry it holdsF
the secret's all in allZ
Some creed which ever bye and bye doth crumbleA2
totter to its fallZ
Say any dream of all the dreams that drift andH
darkle glint and glowP
Holds most of truth within its gleams but sayF
at last you do not knowP
-
Oh say the soul from star to star with victoryX
wing'd leap on through spaceF
And scale the bastioned nights that bar the secret'sF
inner dwelling placeF
Or say it ever roam dim glades where pallidH
wraiths of long dead moonsF
Flit like blown feathers through the shades borneO
on the breath of sobbing tunesF
Say any tide of any time of all the tides that ebbB2
and flowP
Shall buoy us on toward any clime but say atH
last you do not knowP

Don Marquis



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