By The Waters Of Babylon: Little Poems In Prose: Part 01: The Exodus Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCCDBEFCGCHIJCFCKCLM CNOBIPQRSSTUSFSVNWSF XCYCZA2X

AugustA
-
-
The Spanish noon is a blaze of azure fire and the dustyB
pilgrims crawl like an endless serpent along treeless plains andC
bleached highroads through rock split ravines and castellatedC
cathedral shadowed townsD
The hoary patriarch wrinkled as an almond shell bows painfullyB
upon his staff The beautiful young mother ivory pale well nighE
swoons beneath her burden in her large enfolding arms nestles herF
sleeping babe round her knees flock her little ones with bruisedC
and bleeding feet Mother shall we soon be thereG
The youth with Christ like countenance speaks comfortably toC
father and brother to maiden and wife In his breast his ownH
heart is brokenI
The halt the blind are amid the train Sturdy pack horsesJ
laboriously drag the tented wagons wherein lie the sick athirstC
with feverF
The panting mules are urged forward with spur and goad stuffedC
are the heavy saddlebags with the wreckage of ruined homesK
Hark to the tinkling silver bells that adorn the tenderly carriedC
silken scrollsL
In the fierce noon glare a lad bears a kindled lamp behind itsM
net work of bronze the airs of heaven breathe not upon its faintC
purple starN
Noble and abject learned and simple illustrious and obscureO
plod side by side all brothers now all merged in one routed armyB
of misfortuneI
Woe to the straggler who falls by the wayside no friend shallP
close his eyesQ
They leave behind the grape the olive and the fig the vinesR
they planted the corn they sowed the garden cities of AndalusiaS
and Aragon Estremadura and La Mancha of Granada and Castile theS
altar the hearth and the grave of their fathersT
The townsman spits at their garments the shepherd quits hisU
flock the peasant his plow to pelt with curses and stones theS
villager sets on their trail his yelping curF
Oh the weary march oh the uptorn roots of home oh theS
blankness of the receding goalV
Listen to their lamentation They that ate dainty food areN
desolate in the streets they that were reared in scarlet embraceW
dunghills They flee away and wander about Men say among theS
nations they shall no more sojourn there our end is near ourF
days are full our doom is comeX
Whither shall they turn for the West hath cast them out andC
the East refuseth to receiveY
O bird of the air whisper to the despairing exiles thatC
to day to day from the many masted gayly bannered port of PalosZ
sails the world unveiling Genoese to unlock the golden gates ofA2
sunset and bequeath a Continent to FreedomX

Emma Lazarus



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