A Man And His Image Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCB BDED FGHG IJKJ LMNM HHLH HOP HQRQ QSHS HQTQ QQQQ QQRQ HDQD AUQ| All day the nations climb and crawl and pray | A |
| In one long pilgrimage to one white shrine | B |
| Where sleeps a saint whose pardon like his peace | C |
| Is wide as death as common as divine | B |
| - | |
| His statue in an aureole fills the shrine | B |
| The reckless nightingale the roaming fawn | D |
| Share the broad blessing of his lifted hands | E |
| Under the canopy above the lawn | D |
| - | |
| But one strange night a night of gale and flood | F |
| A sound came louder than the wild wind's tone | G |
| The grave gates shook and opened and one stood | H |
| Blue in the moonlight rotten to the bone | G |
| - | |
| Then on the statue graven with holy smiles | I |
| There came another smile tremendous one | J |
| Of an Egyptian god 'Why should you rise | K |
| 'Do I not guard your secret from the sun | J |
| - | |
| The nations come they kneel among the flowers | L |
| Sprung from your blood blossoms of May and June | M |
| Which do not poison them is it not strange | N |
| Speak ' And the dead man shuddered in the moon | M |
| - | |
| Shall I not cry the truth ' the dead man cowered | H |
| Is it not sad with life so tame and cold | H |
| What earth should fade into the sun's white fires | L |
| With the best jest in all its tales untold | H |
| - | |
| 'If I should cry that in this shrine lie hid | H |
| Stories that Satan from his mouth would spew | O |
| Wild tales that men in hell tell hoarsely speak | P |
| Saint and Deliverer Should I slander you ' | - |
| - | |
| Slowly the cowering corse reared up its head | H |
| 'Nay I am vile but when for all to see | Q |
| You stand there pure and painless death of life | R |
| Let the stars fall I say you slander me | Q |
| - | |
| 'You make me perfect public colourless | Q |
| You make my virtues sit at ease you lie | S |
| For mine were never easy lost or saved | H |
| I had a soul I was And where am I | S |
| - | |
| Where is my good the little real hoard | H |
| The secret tears the sudden chivalries | Q |
| The tragic love the futile triumph where | T |
| Thief dog and son of devils where are these | Q |
| - | |
| I will lift up my head in leprous loves | Q |
| Lost and the soul's dishonourable scars | Q |
| By God I was a better man than This | Q |
| That stands and slanders me to all the stars | Q |
| - | |
| 'Come down ' And with an awful cry the corse | Q |
| Sprang on the sacred tomb of many tales | Q |
| And stone and bone locked in a loathsome strife | R |
| Swayed to the singing of the nightingales | Q |
| - | |
| Then one was thrown and where the statue stood | H |
| Under the canopy above the lawn | D |
| The corse stood grey and lean with lifted hands | Q |
| Raised in tremendous welcome to the dawn | D |
| - | |
| 'Now let all nations climb and crawl and pray | A |
| Though I be basest of my old red clan | U |
| They shall not scale with cries or sacrifice | Q |
| The stature of the spirit of a man ' | - |
G. K. Chesterton
(3)
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