The Christiad: A Divine Poem: Book I Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDCCECEE A FGHGGIGIJ A DKDKKLMNL O PQPQQRQRR O STSTTUTUU O VWVWW WXX O FYFYYZYZZ O A2GA2GGOGB2B2 D WPWPPDPDD D C2WC2WWYWYY W PD2PE2E2GE2GG W OF2OF2F2G2H2G2G2 W I2WI2WWJ2WJ2J2 O WK2WK2K2FK2FF O WPWPPWPWW O L2B2L2B2B2B2B2B2 O WB2WB2B2WB2W O B2M2B2M2M2OM2OO W B2B2B2B2B2WB2WW W UWUWWK2WK2 W B2M2B2M2M2WM2WW W B2OB2OOEOEE W N2M2N2M2M2B2M2B2B2 O M2B2M2B2B2WB2WW O B2B2B2B2B2O2B2O2O2 O WWWWWWWWW O M2P2M2P2P2B2P2B2B2 O OB2OB2B2WB2WW W OQ2WQ2Q2B2Q2B2B2 W M2B2M2B2B2B2B2B2B2 B2WR2B2B2WWWWWS2T2U2 U2B2S2U2WWWT2WV2 WE2WE2E2WD2WW B2WB2WWWWWW B2B2B2V2 O EM2EM2M2WM2WW W2B2W2B2B2WB2WW| I | A |
| - | |
| I sing the Cross Ye white robed angel choirs | B |
| Who know the chords of harmony to sweep | C |
| Ye who o'er holy David's varying wires | D |
| Were wont of old your hovering watch to keep | C |
| Oh now descend and with your harpings deep | C |
| Pouring sublime the full symphonious stream | E |
| Of music such as soothes the saint's last sleep | C |
| Awake my slumbering spirit from its dream | E |
| And teach me how to exalt the high mysterious theme | E |
| - | |
| II | A |
| - | |
| Mourn Salem mourn low lies thine humbled state | F |
| Thy glittering fanes are level'd with the ground | G |
| Fallen is thy pride Thine halls are desolate | H |
| Where erst was heard the timbrels' sprightly sound | G |
| And frolic pleasures tripp'd the nightly round | G |
| There breeds the wild fox lonely and aghast | I |
| Stands the mute pilgrim at the void profound | G |
| Unbroke by noise save when the hurrying blast | I |
| Sighs like a spirit deep along the cheerless waste | J |
| - | |
| III | A |
| - | |
| It is for this proud Solyma thy towers | D |
| Lie crumbling in the dust for this forlorn | K |
| Thy genius wails along thy desert bowers | D |
| While stern Destruction laughs as if in scorn | K |
| That thou didst dare insult God's eldest born | K |
| And with most bitter persecuting ire | L |
| Pursued his footsteps till the last day dawn | M |
| Rose on his fortunes and thou saw'st the fire | N |
| That came to light the world in one great flash expire | L |
| - | |
| IV | O |
| - | |
| Oh for a pencil dipp'd in living light | P |
| To paint the agonies that Jesus bore | Q |
| Oh for the long lost harp of Jesse's might | P |
| To hymn the Saviour's praise from shore to shore | Q |
| While seraph hosts the lofty p an pour | Q |
| And Heaven enraptured lists the loud acclaim | R |
| May a frail mortal dare the theme explore | Q |
| May he to human ears his weak song frame | R |
| Oh may he dare to sing Messiah's glorious name | R |
| - | |
| V | O |
| - | |
| Spirits of pity mild crusaders come | S |
| Buoyant on clouds around your minstrel float | T |
| And give him eloquence who else were dumb | S |
| And raise to feeling and to fire his note | T |
| And thou Urania who dost still devote | T |
| Thy nights and days to God's eternal shrine | U |
| Whose mild eyes 'lumined what Isaiah wrote | T |
| Throw o'er thy Bard that solemn stole of thine | U |
| And clothe him for the fight with energy divine | U |
| - | |
| VI | O |
| - | |
| When from the temple's lofty summit prone | V |
| Satan o'ercome fell down and 'throned there | W |
| The son of God confess'd in splendour shone | V |
| Swift as the glancing sunbeam cuts the air | W |
| Mad with defeat and yelling his despair | W |
| - | |
| Fled the stern king of Hell and with the glare | W |
| Of gliding meteors ominous and red | X |
| Shot athwart the clouds that gather'd round his head | X |
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| VII | O |
| - | |
| Right o'er the Euxine and that gulf which late | F |
| The rude Massaget adored he bent | Y |
| His northering course while round in dusky state | F |
| The assembling fiends their summon'd troops augment | Y |
| Clothed in dark mists upon their way they went | Y |
| While as they pass'd to regions more severe | Z |
| The Lapland sorcerer swell'd with loud lament | Y |
| The solitary gale and fill'd with fear | Z |
| The howling dogs bespoke unholy spirits near | Z |
| - | |
| VIII | O |
| - | |
| Where the North Pole in moody solitude | A2 |
| Spreads her huge tracks and frozen wastes around | G |
| There ice rocks piled aloft in order rude | A2 |
| Form a gigantic hall where never sound | G |
| Startled dull Silence' ear save when profound | G |
| The smoke frost mutter'd there drear Cold for aye | O |
| Thrones him and fix'd on his prim val mound | G |
| Ruin the giant sits while stern Dismay | B2 |
| Stalks like some woe struck man along the desert way | B2 |
| - | |
| IX | D |
| - | |
| In that drear spot grim Desolation's lair | W |
| No sweet remain of life encheers the sight | P |
| The dancing heart's blood in an instant there | W |
| Would freeze to marble Mingling day and night | P |
| Sweet interchange which makes our labours light | P |
| Are there unknown while in the summer skies | D |
| The sun rolls ceaseless round his heavenly height | P |
| Nor ever sets till from the scene he flies | D |
| And leaves the long bleak night of half the year to rise | D |
| - | |
| X | D |
| - | |
| 'T was there yet shuddering from the burning lake | C2 |
| Satan had fix'd their next consistory | W |
| When parting last he fondly hoped to shake | C2 |
| Messiah's constancy and thus to free | W |
| The powers of darkness from the dread decree | W |
| Of bondage brought by him and circumvent | Y |
| The unerring ways of Him whose eye can see | W |
| The womb of Time and in its embryo pent | Y |
| Discern the colours clear of every dark event | Y |
| - | |
| XI | W |
| - | |
| Here the stern monarch stay'd his rapid flight | P |
| And his thick hosts as with a jetty pall | D2 |
| Hovering obscured the north star's peaceful light | P |
| Waiting on wing their haughty chieftain's call | E2 |
| He meanwhile downward with a sullen fall | E2 |
| Dropp'd on the echoing ice Instant the sound | G |
| Of their broad vans was hush'd and o'er the hall | E2 |
| Vast and obscure the gloomy cohorts bound | G |
| Till wedged in ranks the seat of Satan they surround | G |
| - | |
| XII | W |
| - | |
| High on a solium of the solid wave | O |
| Prank'd with rude shapes by the fantastic frost | F2 |
| He stood in silence now keen thoughts engrave | O |
| Dark figures on his front and tempest toss'd | F2 |
| He fears to say that every hope is lost | F2 |
| Meanwhile the multitude as death are mute | G2 |
| So ere the tempest on Malacca's coast | H2 |
| Sweet Quiet gently touching her soft lute | G2 |
| Sings to the whispering waves the prelude to dispute | G2 |
| - | |
| XIII | W |
| - | |
| At length collected o'er the dark Divan | I2 |
| The arch fiend glanced as by the Boreal blaze | W |
| Their downcast brows were seen and thus began | I2 |
| His fierce harangue Spirits our better days | W |
| Are now elapsed Moloch and Belial's praise | W |
| Shall sound no more in groves by myriads trod | J2 |
| Lo the light breaks The astonish'd nations gaze | W |
| For us is lifted high the avenging rod | J2 |
| For spirits this is He this is the Son of God | J2 |
| - | |
| XIV | O |
| - | |
| What then shall Satan's spirit crouch to fear | W |
| Shall he who shook the pillars of God's reign | K2 |
| Drop from his unnerved arm the hostile spear | W |
| Madness The very thought would make me fain | K2 |
| To tear the spanglets from yon gaudy plain | K2 |
| And hurl them at their Maker Fix'd as Fate | F |
| I am his foe Yea though his pride should deign | K2 |
| To soothe mine ire with half his regal state | F |
| Still would I burn with fix'd unalterable hate | F |
| - | |
| XV | O |
| - | |
| Now hear the issue of my cursed emprize | W |
| When from our last sad synod I took flight | P |
| Buoyed with false hopes in some deep laid disguise | W |
| To tempt this vaunted Holy One to write | P |
| His own self condemnation in the plight | P |
| Of aged man in the lone wilderness | W |
| Gathering a few stray sticks I met his sight | P |
| And leaning on my staff seem'd much to guess | W |
| What cause could mortal bring to that forlorn recess | W |
| - | |
| XVI | O |
| - | |
| Then thus in homely guise I featly framed | L2 |
| My lowly speech 'Good Sir what leads this way | B2 |
| Your wandering steps must hapless chance be blamed | L2 |
| That you so far from haunt of mortals stray | B2 |
| Here have I dwelt for many a lingering day | B2 |
| Nor trace of man have seen but how methought | B2 |
| Thou wert the youth on whom God's holy ray | B2 |
| I saw descend in Jordan when John taught | B2 |
| That he to fallen man the saving promise brought ' | - |
| - | |
| XVII | O |
| - | |
| 'I am that man ' said Jesus 'I am He | W |
| But truce to questions Canst thou point my feet | B2 |
| To some low hut if haply such there be | W |
| In this wild labyrinth where I may meet | B2 |
| With homely greeting and may sit and eat | B2 |
| For forty days I have tarried fasting here | W |
| Hid in the dark glens of this lone retreat | B2 |
| And now I hunger and my fainting ear | W |
| Longs much to greet the sound of fountains gushing near ' | - |
| - | |
| XVIII | O |
| - | |
| Then thus I answer'd wily 'If indeed | B2 |
| Son of our God thou be'st what need to seek | M2 |
| For food from men Lo on these flint stones feed | B2 |
| Bid them be bread Open thy lips and speak | M2 |
| And living rills from yon parch'd rock will break' | M2 |
| Instant as I had spoke his piercing eye | O |
| Fix'd on my face the blood forsook my cheek | M2 |
| I could not bear his gaze my mask slipp'd by | O |
| I would have shunn'd his look but had not power to fly | O |
| - | |
| XIX | W |
| - | |
| Then he rebuked me with the holy word | B2 |
| Accursed sounds but now my native pride | B2 |
| Return'd and by no foolish qualm deterr'd | B2 |
| I bore him from the mountain's woody side | B2 |
| Up to the summit where extending wide | B2 |
| Kingdoms and cities palaces and fanes | W |
| Bright sparkling in the sunbeams were descried | B2 |
| And in gay dance amid luxuriant plains | W |
| Tripp'd to the jocund reed the emasculated swains | W |
| - | |
| XX | W |
| - | |
| 'Behold ' I cried 'these glories scenes divine | U |
| Thou whose sad prime in pining want decays | W |
| And these O rapture these shall all be thine | U |
| If thou wilt give to me not God the praise | W |
| Hath he not given to indigence thy days | W |
| Is not thy portion peril here and pain | K2 |
| Oh leave his temples shun his wounding ways | W |
| Seize the tiara these mean weeds disdain | K2 |
| Kneel kneel thou man of woe and peace and splendour gain ' | - |
| - | |
| XXI | W |
| - | |
| 'Is it not written ' sternly he replied | B2 |
| 'Tempt not the Lord thy God ' Frowning he spake | M2 |
| And instant sounds as of the ocean tide | B2 |
| Rose and the whirlwind from its prison brake | M2 |
| And caught me up aloft till in one flake | M2 |
| The sidelong volley met my swift career | W |
| And smote me earthward Jove himself might quake | M2 |
| At such a fall my sinews crack'd and near | W |
| Obscure and dizzy sounds seem'd ringing in mine ear | W |
| - | |
| XXII | W |
| - | |
| Senseless and stunn'd I lay till casting round | B2 |
| My half unconscious gaze I saw the foe | O |
| Borne on a car of roses to the ground | B2 |
| By volant angels and as sailing slow | O |
| He sunk the hoary battlement below | O |
| While on the tall spire slept the slant sunbeam | E |
| Sweet on the enamour'd zephyr was the flow | O |
| Of heavenly instruments Such strains oft seem | E |
| On star light hill to soothe the Syrian shepherd's dream | E |
| - | |
| XXIII | W |
| - | |
| I saw blaspheming Hate renew'd my strength | N2 |
| I smote the ether with my iron wing | M2 |
| And left the accursed scene Arrived at length | N2 |
| In these drear halls to ye my peers I bring | M2 |
| The tidings of defeat Hell's haughty king | M2 |
| Thrice vanquished baffled smitten and dismay'd | B2 |
| O shame Is this the hero who could fling | M2 |
| Defiance at his Maker while array'd | B2 |
| High o'er the walls of light rebellion's banners play'd | B2 |
| - | |
| XXIV | O |
| - | |
| Yet shall not Heaven's bland minions triumph long | M2 |
| Hell yet shall have revenge O glorious sight | B2 |
| Prophetic visions on my fancy throng | M2 |
| I see wild Agony's lean finger write | B2 |
| Sad figures on his forehead Keenly bright | B2 |
| Revenge's flambeau burns Now in his eyes | W |
| Stand the hot tears immantled in the night | B2 |
| Lo he retires to mourn I hear his cries | W |
| He faints he falls and lo 't is true ye powers he dies | W |
| - | |
| XXV | O |
| - | |
| Thus spake the chieftain and as if he view'd | B2 |
| The scene he pictured with his foot advanced | B2 |
| And chest inflated motionless he stood | B2 |
| While under his uplifted shield he glanced | B2 |
| With straining eyeball fix'd like one entranced | B2 |
| On viewless air thither the dark platoon | O2 |
| Gazed wondering nothing seen save when there danced | B2 |
| The northern flash or fiend late fled from noon | O2 |
| Darken'd the disk of the descending moon | O2 |
| - | |
| XXVI | O |
| - | |
| Silence crept stilly through the ranks The breeze | W |
| Spake most distinctly As the sailor stands | W |
| When all the midnight gasping from the seas | W |
| Break boding sobs and to his sight expands | W |
| High on the shrouds the spirit that commands | W |
| The ocean farer's life so stiff so sear | W |
| Stood each dark power while through their numerous bands | W |
| Beat not one heart and mingling hope and fear | W |
| Now told them all was lost now bade revenge appear | W |
| - | |
| XXVII | O |
| - | |
| One there was there whose loud defying tongue | M2 |
| Nor hope nor fear had silenced but the swell | P2 |
| Of over boiling malice Utterance long | M2 |
| His passion mock'd and long he strove to tell | P2 |
| His labouring ire still syllable none fell | P2 |
| From his pale quivering lip but died away | B2 |
| For very fury from each hollow cell | P2 |
| Half sprang his eyes that cast a flamy ray | B2 |
| And | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXVIII | O |
| - | |
| This comes at length burst from the furious chief | O |
| This comes of distant counsels Here behold | B2 |
| The fruits of wily cunning the relief | O |
| Which coward policy would fain unfold | B2 |
| To soothe the powers that warr'd with Heaven of old | B2 |
| O wise O potent O sagacious snare | W |
| And lo our prince the mighty and the bold | B2 |
| There stands he spell struck gaping at the air | W |
| While Heaven subverts his reign and plants her standard there | W |
| - | |
| XXIX | W |
| - | |
| Here as recovered Satan fix'd his eye | O |
| Full on the speaker dark it was and stern | Q2 |
| He wrapp'd his black vest round him gloomily | W |
| And stood like one whom weightiest thoughts concern | Q2 |
| Him Moloch mark'd and strove again to turn | Q2 |
| His soul to rage Behold behold he cried | B2 |
| The lord of Hell who made these legions spurn | Q2 |
| Almighty rule behold he lays aside | B2 |
| The spear of just revenge and shrinks by man defied | B2 |
| - | |
| XXX | W |
| - | |
| Thus ended Moloch and his burning tongue | M2 |
| Hung quivering as if mad to quench its heat | B2 |
| In slaughter So his native wilds among | M2 |
| The famish'd tiger pants when near his seat | B2 |
| Press'd on the sands he marks the traveller's feet | B2 |
| Instant low murmurs rose and many a sword | B2 |
| Had from its scabbard sprung but toward the seat | B2 |
| Of the arch fiend all turn'd with one accord | B2 |
| As loud he thus harangued the sanguinary horde | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| Ye powers of Hell I am no coward I proved | B2 |
| this of old who led your forces against the armies | W |
| of Jehovah Who coped with Ithuriel and the | R2 |
| thunders of the Almighty Who when stunned | B2 |
| and confused ye lay on the burning lake who first | B2 |
| awoke and collected your scattered powers Lastly | W |
| who led you across the unfathomable abyss to this | W |
| delightful world and established that reign here | W |
| which now totters to its base How therefore | W |
| dares yon treacherous fiend to cast a stain on Satan's | W |
| bravery he who preys only on the defenceless who | S2 |
| sucks the blood of infants and delights only in | T2 |
| acts of ignoble cruelty and unequal contention | U2 |
| Away with the boaster who never joins in action | U2 |
| but like a cormorant hovers over the field to feed | B2 |
| upon the wounded and overwhelm the dying True | S2 |
| bravery is as remote from rashness as from hesitation | U2 |
| let us counsel coolly but let us execute our | W |
| counselled purposes determinately In power we | W |
| have learned by that experiment which lost us | W |
| Heaven that we are inferior to the Thunder bearer In | T2 |
| subtlety in subtlety alone we are his equals | W |
| Open war is impossible | V2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| Thus we shall pierce our conqueror through the race | W |
| Which as himself he loves thus if we fall | E2 |
| We fall not with the anguish the disgrace | W |
| Of falling unrevenged The stirring call | E2 |
| Of vengeance rings within me Warriors all | E2 |
| The word is vengeance and the spur despair | W |
| Away with coward wiles Death's coal black pall | D2 |
| Be now our standard Be our torch the glare | W |
| Of cities fired our fifes the shrieks that fill the air | W |
| - | |
| Him answering rose Mecashpim who of old | B2 |
| Far in the silence of Chaldea's groves | W |
| Was worshipp'd God of Fire with charms untold | B2 |
| And mystery His wandering spirit roves | W |
| Now vainly searching for the flame it loves | W |
| And sits and mourns like some white robed sire | W |
| Where stood his temple and where fragrant cloves | W |
| And cinnamon unheap'd the sacred pyre | W |
| And nightly magi watch'd the everlasting fire | W |
| - | |
| He waved his robe of flame he cross'd his breast | B2 |
| And sighing his papyrus scarf survey'd | B2 |
| Woven with dark characters then thus address'd | B2 |
| The troubled council | V2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| I | O |
| - | |
| Thus far have I pursued my solemn theme | E |
| With self rewarding toil thus far have sung | M2 |
| Of godlike deeds far loftier than beseem | E |
| The lyre which I in early days have strung | M2 |
| And now my spirit's faint and I have hung | M2 |
| The shell that solaced me in saddest hour | W |
| On the dark cypress and the strings which rung | M2 |
| With Jesus' praise their harpings now are o'er | W |
| Or when the breeze comes by moan and are heard no more | W |
| - | |
| And must the harp of Judah sleep again | W2 |
| Shall I no more reanimate the lay | B2 |
| Oh thou who visitest the sons of men | W2 |
| Thou who dost listen when the humble pray | B2 |
| One little space prolong my mournful day | B2 |
| One little lapse suspend thy last decree | W |
| I am a youthful traveller in the way | B2 |
| And this slight boon would consecrate to thee | W |
| Ere I with Death shake hands and smile that I am free | W |
Henry Kirk White
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About The Christiad: A Divine Poem: Book I
The Christiad: A Divine Poem: Book I is a poem by Henry Kirk White. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.