A Judgment In Heaven Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEB FFGFHF FIJKK LJFJJ FFCF FFMFFF NOPQO FRRQR NSMSFS FFTFFF UFNFF FRNRC TUNUVUWU NXYNX ZRR NA2FA2H RRR N NB2CB2 NNN NMC2MN D2NE2R| Athwart the sod which is treading for God the poet paced with his | A |
| splendid eyes | B |
| Paradise verdure he stately passes to win to the Father of | C |
| Paradise | D |
| Through the conscious and palpitant grasses of inter tangled | E |
| relucent dyes | B |
| - | |
| The angels a play on its fields of Summer their wild wings | F |
| rustled his guides' cymars | F |
| Looked up from disport at the passing comer as they pelted each | G |
| other with handfuls of stars | F |
| And the warden spirits with startled feet rose hand on sword by | H |
| their tethered cars | F |
| - | |
| With plumes night tinctured englobed and cinctured of Saints his | F |
| guided steps held on | I |
| To where on the far crystelline pale of that transtellar Heaven | J |
| there shone | K |
| The immutable crocean dawn effusing from the Father's Throne | K |
| - | |
| Through the reverberant Eden ways the bruit of his great advent | L |
| driven | J |
| Back from the fulgent justle and press with mighty echoing so was | F |
| given | J |
| As when the surly thunder smites upon the clanged gates of Heaven | J |
| - | |
| Over the bickering gonfalons far ranged as for Tartarean wars | F |
| Went a waver of ribbed fire as night seas on phosphoric bars | F |
| Like a flame plumed fan shake slowly out their ridgy reach of | C |
| crumbling stars | F |
| - | |
| At length to where on His fretted Throne sat in the heart of His | F |
| aged dominions | F |
| The great Triune and Mary nigh lit round with spears of their | M |
| hauberked minions | F |
| The poet drew in the thunderous blue involved dread of those | F |
| mounted pinions | F |
| - | |
| As in a secret and tenebrous cloud the watcher from the disquiet | N |
| earth | O |
| At momentary intervals beholds from its ragged rifts break forth | P |
| The flash of a golden perturbation the travelling threat of a | Q |
| witched birth | O |
| - | |
| Till heavily parts a sinister chasm a grisly jaw whose verges | F |
| soon | R |
| Slowly and ominously filled by the on coming plenilune | R |
| Supportlessly congest with fire and suddenly spit forth the | Q |
| moon | R |
| - | |
| With beauty not terror through tangled error of night dipt | N |
| plumes so burned their charge | S |
| Swayed and parted the globing clusters so disclosed from their | M |
| kindling marge | S |
| Roseal chapleted splendent vestured the singer there where God's | F |
| light lay large | S |
| - | |
| Hu hu a wonder a wonder see clasping the singer's glories | F |
| clings | F |
| A dingy creature even to laughter cloaked and clad in patchwork | T |
| things | F |
| Shrinking close from the unused glows of the seraphs' | F |
| versicoloured wings | F |
| - | |
| A rhymer rhyming a futile rhyme he had crept for convoy through | U |
| Eden ways | F |
| Into the shade of the poet's glory darkened under his prevalent | N |
| rays | F |
| Fearfully hoping a distant welcome as a poor kinsman of his lays | F |
| - | |
| The angels laughed with a lovely scorning 'Who has done this | F |
| sorry deed in | R |
| The garden of our Father God 'mid his blossoms to sow this weed | N |
| in | R |
| Never our fingers knew this stuff not so fashion the looms of | C |
| Eden ' | - |
| - | |
| The singer bowed his brow majestic searching that patchwork | T |
| through and through | U |
| Feeling God's lucent gazes traverse his singing stoling and spirit | N |
| too | U |
| The hallowed harpers were fain to frown on the strange thing come | V |
| 'mid their sacred crew | U |
| Only the singer that was earth his fellow earth and his own self | W |
| knew | U |
| - | |
| But the poet rent off robe and wreath so as a sloughing serpent | N |
| doth | X |
| Laid them at the rhymer's feet shed down wreath and raiment both | Y |
| Stood in a dim and shamed stole like the tattered wing of a musty | N |
| moth | X |
| - | |
| 'Thou gav'st the weed and wreath of song the weed and wreath are | Z |
| solely Thine | R |
| And this dishonest vesture is the only vesture that is mine | R |
| The life I textured Thou the song MY handicraft is not divine ' | - |
| - | |
| He wrested o'er the rhymer's head that garmenting which wrought | N |
| him wrong | A2 |
| A flickering tissue argentine down dripped its shivering silvers | F |
| long | A2 |
| 'Better thou wov'st thy woof of life than thou didst weave thy | H |
| woof of song ' | - |
| - | |
| Never a chief in Saintdom was but turned him from the Poet then | R |
| Never an eye looked mild on him 'mid all the angel myriads ten | R |
| Save sinless Mary and sinful Mary the Mary titled Magdalen | R |
| - | |
| 'Turn yon robe ' spake Magdalen 'of torn bright song and see and | N |
| feel ' | - |
| They turned the raiment saw and felt what their turning did | N |
| reveal | B2 |
| All the inner surface piled with bloodied hairs like hairs of | C |
| steel | B2 |
| - | |
| 'Take I pray yon chaplet up thrown down ruddied from his head ' | - |
| They took the roseal chaplet up and they stood astonished | N |
| Every leaf between their fingers as they bruised it burst and | N |
| bled | N |
| - | |
| 'See his torn flesh through those rents see the punctures round | N |
| his hair | M |
| As if the chaplet flowers had driven deep roots in to nourish | C2 |
| there | M |
| Lord who gav'st him robe and wreath WHAT was this Thou gav'st | N |
| for wear ' | - |
| - | |
| 'Fetch forth the Paradisal garb ' spake the Father sweet and low | D2 |
| Drew them both by the frightened hand where Mary's throne made | N |
| irised bow | E2 |
| 'Take Princess Mary of thy good grace two spirits greater than | R |
| they know ' | - |
Francis Thompson
(1)
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