The Golden Legend: Iv. The Road To Hirschau Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Golden Legend: Iv. The Road To Hirschau Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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PRINCE HENRY and ELSIE with their attendants on	A
horseback	B
	-
Elsie Onward and onward the highway runs	C
to the distant city impatiently bearing	D
Tidings of human joy and disaster of love and of	E
hate of doing and daring	D
	-
Prince Henry This life of ours is a wild aeolian	A
harp of many a joyous strain	A
But under them all there runs a loud perpetual wail	F
as of souls in pain	A
	-
Elsie Faith alone can interpret life and the heart	G
that aches and bleeds with the stigma	H
Of pain alone bears the likeness of Christ and can	A
comprehend its dark enigma	H
	-
Prince Henry Man is selfish and seeketh pleasure	I
with little care of what may betide	J
Else why am I travelling here beside thee a demon	A
that rides by an angel's side	J
	-
Elsie All the hedges are white with dust and	K
the great dog under the creaking wain	A
Hangs his head in the lazy heat while onward the	H
horses toil and strain	A
	-
Prince Henry Now they stop at the wayside inn	A
and the wagoner laughs with the landlord's daughter	I
While out of the dripping trough the horses distend	L
their leathern sides with water	I
	-
Elsie All through life there are wayside inns	M
where man may refresh his soul with love	E
Even the lowest may quench his thirst at rivulets fed	N
by springs from above	E
	-
Prince Henry Yonder where rises the cross of	E
stone our journey along the highway ends	O
And over the fields by a bridle path down into the	H
broad green valley descends	O
	-
Elsie I am not sorry to leave behind the beaten	A
road with its dust and heat	P
The air will be sweeter far and the turf will be softer	I
under our horses' feet	P
	-
They turn down a green lane	A
	-
Elsie Sweet is the air with the budding haws	Q
and the valley stretching for miles below	R
Is white with blossoming cheery trees as if just covered	S
with lightest snow	R
	-
Prince Henry Over our heads a white cascade is	T
gleaming against the distant hill	U
We cannot hear it nor see it move but it hangs like	V
a banner when winds are still	U
	-
Elsie Damp and cool is this deep ravine and	K
cool the sound of the brook by our side	J
What is this castle that rises above us and lords it	W
over a land so wide	J
	-
Prince Henry It is the home of the Counts of	E
Calva well have I known these scenes of old	X
Well I remember each tower and turret remember the	H
brooklet the wood and the wold	X
	-
Elsie Hark from the little village below us the	H
bells of the church are ringing for rain	A
Priests and peasants in long procession come forth	Y
and kneel on the arid plain	A
	-
Prince Henry They have not long to wait for I	Z
see in the south uprising a little cloud	A2
That before the sun shall be set will cover the sky	Z
above us as with a shroud	A2
	-
They pass on	A
	-
	-
	-
THE CONVENT OF HIRSCHAU IN THE BLACK FOREST	B2
	-
	-
	-
The Convent cellar FRIAR CLAUS comes in with a	H
light and a basket of empty flagons	T
	-
Friar Claus I always enter this sacred place	T
With a thoughtful solemn and reverent pace	T
Pausing long enough on each stair	C2
To breathe an ejaculatory prayer	C2
And a benediction on the vines	T
That produce these various sorts of wines	T
	-
For my part I am well content	D2
That we have got through with the tedious Lent	D2
Fasting is all very well for those	T
Who have to contend with invisible foes	T
But I am quite sure it does not agree	E2
With a quiet peaceable man like me	E2
Who am not of that nervous and meagre kind	F2
That are always distressed in body and mind	F2
And at times it really does me good	G2
To come down among this brotherhood	G2
Dwelling forever under ground	H2
Silent contemplative round and sound	H2
Each one old and brown with mould	X
But filled to the lips with the ardor of youth	I2
With the latent power and love of truth	I2
And with virtues fervent and manifold	X
	-
I have heard it said that at Easter tide	J
When buds are swelling on every side	J
And the sap begins to move in the vine	A
Then in all the cellars far and wide	J
The oldest as well as the newest wine	A
Begins to stir itself and ferment	D2
With a kind of revolt and discontent	D2
At being so long in darkness pent	D2
And fain would burst from its sombre tun	A
To bask on the hillside in the sun	A
As in the bosom of us poor friars	T
The tumult of half subdued desires	T
For the world that we have left behind	F2
Disturbs at times all peace of mind	F2
And now that we have lived through Lent	D2
My duty it is as often before	J2
To open awhile the prison door	J2
And give these restless spirits vent	D2
	-
Now here is a cask that stands alone	A
And has stood a hundred years or more	J2
Its beard of cobwebs long and hoar	J2
Trailing and sweeping along the floor	J2
Like Barbarossa who sits in his cave	K2
Taciturn sombre sedate and grave	K2
Till his beard has grown through the table of stone	A
It is of the quick and not of the dead	N
In its veins the blood is hot and red	N
And a heart still beats in those ribs of oak	L2
That time may have tamed but has not broke	L2
It comes from Bacharach on the Rhine	A
Is one of the three best kinds of wine	A
And costs some hundred florins the ohm	M2
But that I do not consider dear	N2
When I remember that every year	N2
Four butts are sent to the Pope of Rome	M2
And whenever a goblet thereof I drain	A
The old rhyme keeps running in my brain	A
	-
At Bacharach on the Rhine	A
At Hochheim on the Main	A
And at Wuerzburg on the Stein	A
Grow the three best kinds of wine	A
	-
They are all good wines and better far	O2
Than those of the Neckar or those of the Ahr	O2
In particular Wuerzburg well may boast	P2
Of its blessed wine of the Holy Ghost	P2
Which of all wines I like the most	P2
This I shall draw for the Abbot's drinking	D
Who seems to be much of my way of thinking	D
	-
Fills a flagon	A
	-
Ah how the streamlet laughs and sings	T
What a delicious fragrance springs	T
From the deep flagon while it fills	T
As of hyacinths and daffodils	T
Between this cask and the Abbot's lips	T
Many have been the sips and slips	T
Many have been the draughts of wine	A
On their way to his that have stopped at mine	A
And many a time my soul has hankered	P2
For a deep draught out of his silver tankard	P2
When it should have been busy with other affairs	T
Less with its longings and more with its prayers	T
But now there is no such awkward condition	A
No danger of death and eternal perdition	A
So here's to the Abbot and Brothers all	Q2
Who dwell in this convent of Peter and Paul	Q2
	-
He drinks	T
	-
O cordial delicious O soother of pain	A
It flashes like sunshine into my brain	A
A benison rest on the Bishop who sends	T
Such a fudder of wine as this to his friends	T
	-
And now a flagon for such as may ask	R2
A draught from the noble Bacharach cask	R2
And I will be gone though I know full well	S2
The cellar's a cheerfuller place than the cell	S2
Behold where he stands all sound and good	P2
Brown and old in his oaken hood	P2
Silent he seems externally	E2
As any Carthusian monk may be	E2
But within what a spirit of deep unrest	P2
What a seething and simmering in his breast	P2
As if the heaving of his great heart	P2
Would burst his belt of oak apart	P2
Let me unloose this button of wood	P2
And quiet a little his turbulent mood	P2
	-
Sets it running	D
	-
See how its currents gleam and shine	A
As if they had caught the purple hues	T
Of autumn sunsets on the Rhine	A
Descending and mingling with the dews	T
Or as if the grapes were stained with the blood	P2
Of the innocent boy who some years back	B
Was taken and crucified by the Jews	T
In that ancient town of Bacharach	B
Perdition upon those infidel Jews	T
In that ancient town of Bacharach	B
The beautiful town that gives us wine	A
With the fragrant odor of Muscadine	A
I should deem it wrong to let this pass	T
Without first touching my lips to the glass	T
For here in the midst of the current I stand	P2
Like the stone Pfalz in the midst of the river	I
Taking toll upon either hand	P2
And much more grateful to the giver	I
	-
He drinks	T
	-
Here now is a very inferior kind	P2
Such as in any town you may find	P2
Such as one mi	E2