Greek Funeral Chant Or Myriologue Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD EEFFG HH IIFFJJC AAJJKLMM NNOOPPQQ JJRRSTL AAUUVVWW XXYYZZW| A WAIL was heard around the bed the death bed of the young | A |
| Amidst her tears the Funeral Chant a mournful mother sung | A |
| 'Ianthis dost thou sleep Thou sleep'st but this is not the rest | B |
| The breathing and the rosy calm I have pillow'd on my breast | B |
| I lull'd thee not to this repose Ianthis my sweet son | C |
| As in thy glowing childhood's time by twilight I have done | C |
| How is it that I bear to stand and look upon thee now | D |
| And that I die not seeing death on thy pale glorious brow | D |
| - | |
| 'I look upon thee thou that wert of all most fair and brave | E |
| I see thee wearing still too much of beauty for the grave | E |
| Though mournfully thy smile is fix'd and heavily thine eye | F |
| Hath shut above the falcon glance that in it lov'd to lie | F |
| And fast is bound the springing step that seem'd on breezes borne | G |
| When to thy couch I came and said 'Wake hunter wake 'tis morn ' | - |
| Yet art thou lovely still my flower untouch'd by slow decay | H |
| And I the wither'd stem remain I would that grief might slay | H |
| - | |
| 'Oh ever when I met thy look I knew that this would be | I |
| I knew too well that length of days was not a gift for thee | I |
| I saw it in thy kindling cheek and in thy bearing high | F |
| A voice came whispering to my soul and told me thou must die | F |
| That thou must die my fearless one where swords were flashing red | J |
| Why doth a mother live to say my first born and my dead | J |
| They tell me of thy youthful fame they talk of victory won | C |
| Speak thou and I will hear my child Ianthis my sweet son ' | - |
| - | |
| A wail was heard around the bed the deathbed of the young | A |
| A fair hair'd bride the Funeral Chant amidst her weeping sung | A |
| 'Ianthis look'st thou not on me Can love indeed be fled | J |
| When was it woe before to gaze upon thy stately head | J |
| I would that I had follow'd thee Ianthis my belov'd | K |
| And stood as woman oft hath stood where faithful hearts are prov'd | L |
| That I had bound a breastplate on and battled at thy side | M |
| It would have been a blessed thing together had we died | M |
| - | |
| 'But where was I when thou didst fall beneath the fatal sword | N |
| Was I beside the sparkling fount or at the peaceful board | N |
| Or singing some sweet song of old in the shadow of the vine | O |
| Or praying to the saints for thee before the holy shrine | O |
| And thou wert lying low the while the life drops from thy heart | P |
| Fast gushing like a mountain spring and couldst thou thus depart | P |
| Couldst thou depart nor on my lips pour out thy fleeting breath | Q |
| Oh I was with thee but in joy that should have been in death | Q |
| - | |
| 'Yes I was with thee when the dance through mazy rings was led | J |
| And when the lyre and voice were tun'd and when the feast was spread | J |
| But not where noble blood flow'd forth where sounding javelins flew | R |
| Why did I hear love's first sweet words and not its last adieu | R |
| What now can breathe of gladness more what scene what hour what tone | S |
| The blue skies fade with all their lights they fade since thou art gone | T |
| Ev'n that must leave me that still face by all my tears unmov'd | L |
| Take me from this dark world with thee Ianthis my belov'd ' | - |
| - | |
| A wail was heard around the bed the death bed of the young | A |
| Amidst her tears the Funeral Chant a mournful sister sung | A |
| 'Ianthis brother of my soul oh where are now the days | U |
| That laugh'd among the deep green hills on all our infant plays | U |
| When we two sported by the streams or track'd them to their source | V |
| And like a stag's the rocks along was thy fleet fearless course | V |
| I see the pines there waving yet I see the rills descend | W |
| I see thy bounding step no more my brother and my friend | W |
| - | |
| 'I come with flowers for spring is come Ianthis art thou here | X |
| I bring the garlands she hath brought I cast them on thy bier | X |
| Thou shouldst be crown'd with victory's crown but oh more meet they seem | Y |
| The first faint violets of the wood and lilies of the stream | Y |
| More meet for one so fondly lov'd and laid thus early low | Z |
| Alas how sadly sleeps thy face amidst the sunshine's glow | Z |
| The golden glow that through thy heart was wont such joy to send | W |
| Woe that it smiles and not for thee my brother and my friend ' | - |
Felicia Dorothea Hemans
(1)
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