Declining Days Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFFF GHGH IJIJ HKHK LML NFNF OFOF PFPF QRQR SBSB FTFU VJVJ FFFF FDFD MBWB XFYF ZFZF A2B2C2B2 FPFPWhy do I sigh to find | A |
Life's evening shadows gathering round my way | B |
The keen eye dimming and the buoyant mind | A |
Unhinging day by day | B |
- | |
Is it the natural dread | C |
Of that stern lot which all who live must see | D |
The worm the clay the dark and narrow bed | C |
Have these such awe for me | D |
- | |
Can I not summon pride | E |
To fold my decent mantle round my breast | F |
And lay me down at Nature's eventide | F |
Calm to my dreamless rest | F |
- | |
As nears my soul the verge | G |
Of this dim continent of woe and crime | H |
Shrinks she to hear Eternity's long surge | G |
Break o'er the shores of time | H |
- | |
Asks she how shall she fare | I |
When conscience stands before the judge's throne | J |
And gives her record in and all shall there | I |
Know as they all are known | J |
- | |
A solemn scene and time | H |
And well may Nature quail to feel them near | K |
But grace in feeble breasts can work sublime | H |
And faith overmaster fear | K |
- | |
Hark I from that throne comes down | L |
A voice which strength to sinking souls can give | M |
That voice all judgment's thunders cannot drown | L |
'Believe ' it cries 'and live ' | - |
- | |
Weak sinful as I am | N |
That still small voice forbids me to despond | F |
Faith clings for refuge to thebleeding Lamb | N |
Nor dreads the gloom beyond | F |
- | |
'Tis not then earth's delights | O |
From which my spirit feels so loath to part | F |
Nor the dim future's solemn sounds or sights | O |
That press so on my heart | F |
- | |
No I 'tis the thought that I | P |
My lamp so low my sun so nearly set | F |
Have lived so useless so unmissed should lie | P |
'Tis this I now regret | F |
- | |
I would not be the wave | Q |
That swells and ripples up to yonder shore | R |
That drives impulsive on the wild wind's slave | Q |
And breaks and is no more | R |
- | |
I would not be the breeze | S |
That murmers by me in its viewless play | B |
Bends the light grass and flutters in the trees | S |
And sighs and flits away | B |
- | |
No I not like wave or wind | F |
Be my career across the earthly scene | T |
To come and go and leave no trace behind | F |
To say that I have been | U |
- | |
I want not vulgar fame | V |
I seek not to survive in brass or stone | J |
Hearts may not kindle when they hear my name | V |
Nor tears my value own | J |
- | |
But might I leave behind | F |
Some blessing for my fellows some fair trust | F |
To guide to cheer to elevate my kind | F |
When I am in the dust | F |
- | |
Within my narrow bed | F |
Might I not wholly mute or useless be | D |
But hope that they who trampled o'er my head | F |
Drew still some good from me | D |
- | |
Might my poor lyre but give | M |
Some simple strain some spirit moving lay | B |
Some sparklet of the soul that still might live | W |
When I have passed to clay | B |
- | |
Might verse of mine inspire | X |
One virtuous aim one high resolve impart | F |
Light in one drooping soul a hallowed fire | Y |
Or bind one broken heart | F |
- | |
Death would be sweeter then | Z |
More calm my slumber 'neath the silent sod | F |
Might I thus live to bless my fellow men | Z |
Or glorify my God | F |
- | |
Why do we ever lose | A2 |
As judgment ripens our diviner powers | B2 |
Why do we only learn our gifts to use | C2 |
When they no more are ours | B2 |
- | |
O Thou whose touch can lend | F |
Life to the dead Thy quick'ning grace supply | P |
And grant me swanlike my last breath to spend | F |
In song that may not die | P |
Henry Francis Lyte
(1)
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