The Helot Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBC A DEDE A FGFG H IJIJ H KLKL H EMEM H HNHN H OPOP P BCBC P QRQR P NNNN P PFPF P STST H UVUV H WXWX H QRQR H PYPY H KNKN P ZPSP P EPEY P PPPP P UKUK P A2NA2N H B2NB2N H SC2SC2 H RD2RD2 H SCSC H NQNQ P E2E2E2E2 P E2F2E2F2 P PE2PE2 P RNRN P PPPP H PNPN H E2KE2K H E2G2E2G2 H E2RE2R H E2NE2N P H2PH2P N PNPN N I2E2I2E2 N E2NE2N N PPPP H NPNP H E2E2E2E2 H E2E2E2E2 H PJ2PJ2 H K2E2K2E2 P NNNN N E2NE2N N L2RL2R N M2E2M2E2 N QHQH H HNHN H KN2KN2 H PNPN H E2PE2P H PF2PO2 P E2NE2N P KNKN P P2RP2R P PPPP P E2PE2P H E2PE2P H Q2NQ2N H QE2QE2 H RNRN H E2PE2P P PPPP P E2PE2P P NE2NE2 P NR2NR2 P PPPP H E2PE2P H RHRH H PE2PE2 H E2PE2P H E2P2E2P2 P PPPP P E2PE2P P PE2PE2 P NPNP P PPPP H E2G2E2G2 H E2PE2P H E2PE2P H RPRP H E2E2E2E2 P P2E2P2E2 P2 S2NS2N P P2NP2N P PE2PE2 P E2T2E2T2 H E2PE2P H NPNP H E2E2E2E2 H RNRN H NPNP

I	A
	-
Low the sun beat on the land	B
Red on vine and plain and wood	C
With the wine cup in his hand	B
Vast the Helot herdsman stood	C
	-
II	A
	-
Quench'd the fierce Achean gaze	D
Dorian foemen paus'd before	E
Where cold Sparta snatch'd her bays	D
At Achaea's stubborn door	E
	-
III	A
	-
Still with thews of iron bound	F
Vastly the Achean rose	G
Godward from the brazen ground	F
High before his Spartan foes	G
	-
IV	H
	-
Still the strength his fathers knew	I
Dauntless when the foe they fac'd	J
Vein and muscle bounded through	I
Tense his Helot sinews brac'd	J
	-
V	H
	-
Still the constant womb of Earth	K
Blindly moulded all her part	L
As when to a lordly birth	K
Achean freemen left her heart	L
	-
VI	H
	-
Still insensate mother bore	E
Goodly sons for Helot graves	M
Iron necks that meekly wore	E
Sparta's yoke as Sparta's slaves	M
	-
VII	H
	-
Still O God mock'd mother she	H
Smil'd upon her sons of clay	N
Nurs'd them on her breast and knee	H
Shameless in the shameful day	N
	-
VIII	H
	-
Knew not old Achea's fires	O
Burnt no more in souls or veins	P
Godlike hosts of high desires	O
Died to clank of Spartan chains	P
	-
IX	P
	-
Low the sun beat on the land	B
Purple slope and olive wood	C
With the wine cup in his hand	B
Vast the Helot herdsman stood	C
	-
X	P
	-
As long gnarl'd roots enclasp	Q
Some red boulder fierce entwine	R
His strong fingers in their grasp	Q
Bowl of bright Caecuban wine	R
	-
XI	P
	-
From far Marsh of Amyclae	N
Sentried by lank poplars tall	N
Thro' the red slant of the day	N
Shrill pipes did lament and call	N
	-
XII	P
	-
Pierc'd the swaying air sharp pines	P
Thyrsi like the gilded ground	F
Clasp'd black shadows of brown vines	P
Swallows beat their mystic round	F
	-
XIII	P
	-
Day was at her high unrest	S
Fever'd with the wine of light	T
Loosing all her golden vest	S
Reel'd she towards the coming night	T
	-
XIV	H
	-
Fierce and full her pulses beat	U
Bacchic throbs the dry earth shook	V
Stirr'd the hot air wild and sweet	U
Madden'd ev'ry vine dark brook	V
	-
XV	H
	-
Had a red grape never burst	W
All its heart of fire out	X
To the red vat all a thirst	W
To the treader's song and shout	X
	-
XVI	H
	-
Had the red grape died a grape	Q
Nor sleek daughter of the vine	R
Found her unknown soul take shape	Q
In the wild flow of the wine	R
	-
XVII	H
	-
Still had reel'd the yellow haze	P
Still had puls'd the sun pierc'd sod	Y
Still had throbb'd the vine clad days	P
To the pulses of their God	Y
	-
XVIII	H
	-
Fierce the dry lips of the earth	K
Quaff'd the subtle Bacchic soul	N
Felt its rage and felt its mirth	K
Wreath'd as for the banquet bowl	N
	-
XIX	P
	-
Sapphire breasted Bacchic priest	Z
Stood the sky above the lands	P
Sun and Moon at East and West	S
Brazen cymbals in his hands	P
	-
XX	P
	-
Temples altars smote no more	E
Sharply white as brows of Gods	P
From the long sleek yellow shore	E
Oliv'd hill or dusky sod	Y
	-
XXI	P
	-
Gaz'd the anger'd Gods while he	P
Bacchus made their temples his	P
Flushed their marble silently	P
With the red light of his kiss	P
	-
XXII	P
	-
Red the arches of his feet	U
Spann'd grape gleaming vales the earth	K
Reel'd from grove to marble street	U
Mad with echoes of his mirth	K
	-
XXIII	P
	-
Nostrils widen'd to the air	A2
As above the wine brimm'd bowl	N
Men and women everywhere	A2
Breath'd the fierce sweet Bacchic soul	N
	-
XXIV	H
	-
Flow'd the vat and roar'd the beam	B2
Laugh'd the must while far and shrill	N
Sweet as notes in Pan born dream	B2
Loud pipes sang by vale and hill	N
	-
XXV	H
	-
Earth was full of mad unrest	S
While red Bacchus held his state	C2
And her brown vine girdl'd breast	S
Shook to his wild joy and hate	C2
	-
XXVI	H
	-
Strife crouch'd red ey'd in the vine	R
In its tendrils Eros strayed	D2
Anger rode upon the wine	R
Laughter on the cup lip play'd	D2
	-
XXVII	H
	-
Day was at her chief unrest	S
Red the light on plain and wood	C
Slavish ey'd and still of breast	S
Vast the Helot herdsman stood	C
	-
XXVIII	H
	-
Wide his hairy nostrils blew	N
Maddning incense breathing up	Q
Oak to iron sinews grew	N
Round the rich Caecuban cup	Q
	-
XXIX	P
	-
Drink dull slave the Spartan said	E2
Drink until the Helot clod	E2
Feel within him subtly bred	E2
Kinship to the drunken God	E2
	-
XXX	P
	-
Drink until the leaden blood	E2
Stirs and beats about thy brain	F2
Till the hot Caecuban flood	E2
Drown the iron of thy chain	F2
	-
XXXI	P
	-
Drink till even madness flies	P
At the nimble wine's pursuit	E2
Till the God within thee lies	P
Trampled by the earth born brute	E2
	-
XXXII	P
	-
Helot drink nor spare the wine	R
Drain the deep the madd'ning bowl	N
Flesh and sinews slave are mine	R
Now I claim thy Helot soul	N
	-
XXXIII	P
	-
Gods ye love our Sparta ye	P
Gave with vine that leaps and runs	P
O'er her slopes these slaves to be	P
Mocks and warnings to her sons	P
	-
XXXIV	H
	-
Thou my Hermos turn thy eyes	P
God touch'd still their frank bold blue	N
On the Helot mark the rise	P
Of the Bacchic riot through	N
	-
XXXV	H
	-
Knotted vein and surging breast	E2
Mark the wild insensate mirth	K
God ward boast the driv'ling jest	E2
Till he grovel to the earth	K
	-
XXXVI	H
	-
Drink dull slave the Spartan cried	E2
Meek the Helot touch'd the brim	G2
Scented all the purple tide	E2
Drew the Bacchic soul to him	G2
	-
XXXVII	H
	-
Cold the thin lipp'd Spartan smiled	E2
Couch'd beneath the weighted vine	R
Large ey'd gaz'd the Spartan child	E2
On the Helot and the wine	R
	-
XXXVIII	H
	-
Rose pale Doric shafts behind	E2
Stern and strong and thro' and thro'	N
Weaving with the grape breath'd wind	E2
Restless swallows call'd and flew	N
	-
XXXIX	P
	-
Dropp'd the rose flush'd doves and hung	H2
On the fountains murmuring brims	P
To the bronz'd vine Hermos clung	H2
Silver like his naked limbs	P
	-
XL	N
	-
Flash'd and flush'd rich copper'd leaves	P
Whiten'd by his ruddy hair	N
Pallid as the marble eaves	P
Aw'd he met the Helot's stare	N
	-
XLI	N
	-
Clang'd the brazen goblet down	I2
Marble bred loud echoes stirr'd	E2
With fix'd fingers knotted brown	I2
Dumb the Helot grasp'd his beard	E2
	-
XLII	N
	-
Heard the far pipes mad and sweet	E2
All the ruddy hazes thrill	N
Heard the loud beam crash and beat	E2
In the red vat on the hill	N
	-
XLIII	N
	-
Wide his nostrils as a stag's	P
Drew the hot wind's fiery bliss	P
Red his lips as river flags	P
From the strong Caecuban kiss	P
	-
XLIV	H
	-
On his swarthy temples grew	N
Purple veins like cluster'd grapes	P
Past his rolling pupils blew	N
Wine born fierce lascivious shapes	P
	-
XLV	H
	-
Cold the haughty Spartan smiled	E2
His the power to knit that day	E2
Bacchic fires insensate wild	E2
To the grand Achean clay	E2
	-
XLVI	H
	-
His the might hence his the right	E2
Who should bid him pause nor Fate	E2
Warning pass'd before his sight	E2
Dark robed and articulate	E2
	-
XLVII	H
	-
No black omens on his eyes	P
Sinistre God sent darkly broke	J2
Nor from ruddy earth nor skies	P
Portends to him mutely spoke	J2
	-
XLVIII	H
	-
Lo he said he maddens now	K2
Flames divine do scathe the clod	E2
Round his reeling Helot brow	K2
Stings the garland of the God	E2
	-
XLIX	P
	-
Mark my Hermos turn to steel	N
The soft tendons of thy soul	N
Watch the God beneath the heel	N
Of the strong brute swooning roll	N
	-
L	N
	-
Shame my Hermos honey dew	E2
Breeds not on the Spartan spear	N
Steel thy mother eyes of blue	E2
Blush to death that weakling tear	N
	-
LI	N
	-
Nay behold breed Spartan scorn	L2
Of the red lust of the wine	R
Watch the God himself down borne	L2
By the brutish rush of swine	R
	-
LII	N
	-
Lo the magic of the drink	M2
At the nimble wine's pursuit	E2
See the man half'd satyr sink	M2
All the human in the brute	E2
	-
LIII	N
	-
Lo the magic of the cup	Q
Watch the frothing Helot rave	H
As great buildings labour up	Q
From the corpse of slaughter'd slave	H
	-
LIV	H
	-
Build the Spartan virtue high	H
From the Helot's wine dead soul	N
Scorn the wild hot flames that fly	H
From the purple hearted bowl	N
	-
LV	H
	-
Helot clay Gods what its worth	K
Balanc'd with proud Sparta's rock	N2
Ours its force to till the earth	K
Ours its soul to gyve and mock	N2
	-
LVI	H
	-
Ours its sullen might Ye Gods	P
Vastly build the Achean clay	N
Iron breast our slavish clods	P
Ours their Helot souls to slay	N
	-
LVII	H
	-
Knit great thews smite sinews vast	E2
Into steel build Helot bones	P
Iron marrowed such will last	E2
Ground by ruthless Sparta's stones	P
	-
LVIII	H
	-
Crown the strong brute satyr wise	P
Narrow wall his Helot brain	F2
Dash the soul from breast and eyes	P
Lash him toward the earth again	O2
	-
LIX	P
	-
Make a giant for our need	E2
Weak to feel and strong to toil	N
Dully wise to dig or bleed	E2
On proud Sparta's alien soil	N
	-
LX	P
	-
Gods recall thy spark at birth	K
Lit his soul with high desire	N
Blend him grind him with the earth	K
Tread out old Achea's fire	N
	-
LXI	P
	-
Lo my Hermos laugh and mark	P2
See the swift mock of the wine	R
Faints the primal God born spark	P2
Trodden by the rush of swine	R
	-
LXII	P
	-
Gods ye love our Sparta ye	P
Gave with vine that leaps and runs	P
O'er her slopes these slaves to be	P
Mocks and warnings to her sons	P
	-
LXIII	P
	-
Cold the haughty Spartan smil'd	E2
Madd'ning from the purple hills	P
Sang the far pipes sweet and wild	E2
Red as sun pierc'd daffodils	P
	-
LXIV	H
	-
Neck curv'd serpent silent scaled	E2
With lock'd rainbows stole the sea	P
On the sleek long beaches wail'd	E2
Doves from column and from tree	P
	-
LXV	H
	-
Reel'd the mote swarm'd haze and thick	Q2
Beat the hot pulse of the air	N
In the Helot fierce and quick	Q2
All his soul sprang from its lair	N
	-
LXVI	H
	-
As the drowzing tiger deep	Q
In the dim cell hears the shout	E2
From the arena from his sleep	Q
Launches to its thunders out	E2
	-
LXVII	H
	-
So to fierce calls of the wine	R
Strong the red Caecuban bowl	N
From its slumber deep supine	R
Panted up the Helot soul	N
	-
LXVIII	H
	-
At his blood flush'd eye balls rear'd	E2
Mad and sweet came pipes and songs	P
Rous'd at last the wild soul glar'd	E2
Spear thrust with a million wrongs	P
	-
LXIX	P
	-
Past the primal senseless bliss	P
Past red laughter of the grapes	P
Past the wine's first honey'd kiss	P
Past the wine born wanton shapes	P
	-
LXX	P
	-
Still the Helot stands his feet	E2
Set like oak roots in his gaze	P
Black clouds roll and lightnings meet	E2
Flames from old Achean days	P
	-
LXXI	P
	-
Who may quench the God born fire	N
Pulsing at the soul's deep root	E2
Tyrants grind it in the mire	N
Lo it vivifies the brute	E2
	-
LXXII	P
	-
Stings the chain embruted clay	N
Senseless to his yoke bound shame	R2
Goads him on to rend and slay	N
Knowing not the spurring flame	R2
	-
LXXIII	P
	-
Tyrants changeless stand the Gods	P
Nor their calm might yielded ye	P
Not beneath thy chains and rods	P
Dies man's God gift Liberty	P
	-
LXXIV	H
	-
Bruteward lash thy Helots hold	E2
Brain and soul and clay in gyves	P
Coin their blood and sweat in gold	E2
Build thy cities on their lives	P
	-
LXXV	H
	-
Comes a day the spark divine	R
Answers to the Gods who gave	H
Fierce the hot flames pant and shine	R
In the bruis'd breast of the slave	H
	-
LXXVI	H
	-
Changeless stand the Gods nor he	P
Knows he answers their behest	E2
Feels the might of their decree	P
In the blind rage of his breast	E2
	-
LXXVII	H
	-
Tyrants tremble when ye tread	E2
Down the servile Helot clods	P
Under despot heel is bred	E2
The white anger of the Gods	P
	-
LXXVIII	H
	-
Thro' the shackle canker'd dust	E2
Thro' the gyv'd soul foul and dark	P2
Force they changeless Gods and just	E2
Up the bright eternal spark	P2
	-
LXXIX	P
	-
Till like lightnings vast and fierce	P
On the land its terror smites	P
Till its flames the tyrants pierce	P
Till the dust the despot bites	P
	-
LXXX	P
	-
Day was at its chief unrest	E2
Stone from stone the Helot rose	P
Fix'd his eyes his naked breast	E2
Iron wall'd his inner throes	P
	-
LXXXI	P
	-
Rose white in the dusky leaves	P
Shone the frank ey'd Spartan child	E2
Low the pale doves on the eaves	P
Made their soft moan sweet and wild	E2
	-
LXXXII	P
	-
Wand'ring winds fire throated stole	N
Sybils whisp'ring from their books	P
With the rush of wine from bowl	N
Leap'd the tendril darken'd brooks	P
	-
LXXXIII	P
	-
As the leathern cestus binds	P
Tense the boxer's knotted hands	P
So the strong wine round him winds	P
Binds his thews to iron bands	P
	-
LXXXIV	H
	-
Changeless are the Gods and bred	E2
All their wrath divine in him	G2
Bull like fell his furious head	E2
Swell'd vast cords on breast and limb	G2
	-
LXXXV	H
	-
As loud flaming stones are hurl'd	E2
From foul craters thus the gods	P
Cast their just wrath on the world	E2
From the mire of Helot clods	P
	-
LXXXVI	H
	-
Still the furious Helot stood	E2
Staring thro' the shafted space	P
Dry lipp'd for the Spartan blood	E2
He of scourg'd Achea's race	P
	-
LXXXVII	H
	-
Sprang the Helot roar'd the vine	R
Rent from grey long wedded stones	P
From pale shaft and dusky pine	R
Beat the fury of his groans	P
	-
LXXXVIII	H
	-
Thunders inarticulate	E2
Wordless curses deep and wild	E2
Reach'd the long pois'd sword of Fate	E2
To the Spartan thro' his child	E2
	-
LXXXIX	P
	-
On his knotted hands upflung	P2
O'er his low'r'd front all white	E2
Fair young Hermos quiv'ring hung	P2
As the discus flashes bright	E2
	-
XC	P2
	-
In the player's hand the boy	S2
Naked blossom pallid lay	N
Rous'd to lust of bloody joy	S2
Throbb'd the slave's embruted clay	N
	-
XCI	P
	-
Loud he laugh'd the father sprang	P2
From the Spartan's iron mail	N
Late the bubbling death cry rang	P2
On the hot pulse of the gale	N
	-
XCII	P
	-
As the shining discus flies	P
From the thrower's strong hand whirl'd	E2
Hermos cleft the air his cries	P
Lance like to the Spartan hurl'd	E2
	-
XCIII	P
	-
As the discus smites the ground	E2
Smote his golden head the stone	T2
Of a tall shaft burst a sound	E2
And but one his dying groan	T2
	-
XCIV	H
	-
Lo the tyrant's iron might	E2
Lo the Helot's yokes and chains	P
Slave slain in the throbbing light	E2
Lay the sole child of his veins	P
	-
XCV	H
	-
Laugh'd the Helot loud and full	N
Gazing at his tyrant's face	P
Low'r'd his front like captive bull	N
Bellowing from the fields of Thrace	P
	-
XCVI	H
	-
Rose the pale shaft redly flush'd	E2
Red with Bacchic light and blood	E2
On its stone the Helot rush'd	E2
Stone the tyrant Spartan stood	E2
	-
XCVII	H
	-
Lo the magic of the wine	R
From far marsh of Amyclae	N
Bier'd upon the ruddy vine	R
Spartan dust and Helot lay	N
	-
XCVIII	H
	-
Spouse of Bacchus reel'd the day	N
Red track'd on the throbbing sods	P
Dead but free the Helot lay	N
Just and changeless stand the Gods	P

Isabella Valancy Crawford

Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme

Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation

<< The Ghosts Of The Trees Poem The Hidden Room Poem>>

Write your comment about The Helot poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford

Best Poems of Isabella Valancy Crawford

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 25 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Wonderful Women
by Umaru Kanneh Boima
Freedom To Scratch In Peace
by Olute Aete
Happy New Year
by Felix Menda
Human Beings
by Dana Graslie
Lust
by Wisdom Greatness
An Isolated Tree's Song
by Sayeed Abubakar
A Strange Boy
by Sayeed Abubakar
O Soil
by Sayeed Abubakar
No War, No War-monger
by Sayeed Abubakar
Night's Town
by Sayeed Abubakar

Popular Poets

1. Emily Dickinson(2414 poems)
2. Madison Julius Cawein(1231 poems)
3. Ella Wheeler Wilcox(1136 poems)
4. William Wordsworth(1016 poems)
5. Robert Burns(986 poems)
6. Edgar Albert Guest(945 poems)
7. Thomas Moore(849 poems)
8. Robert Service(831 poems)