The Lambs On The Boulder Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHAIJKLMNEOPQR SBTUBVWXYZQA2RB2AC2B 2PD2E2F2B2D2D2B2D2FD 2G2VD2D2D2B2D2H2D2I2 GB2D2J2B2GK2D2MB2EB2 D2D2B2ED2D2L2B2D2| I hear that the Commune di Padova has an exhibition of master | A |
| pieces from Giotto to Mantegna Giotto is the master of angels and | B |
| Mantegna is the master of the dead Christ one of the few human | C |
| beings who seems to have understood that Christ did indeed come | D |
| down from the cross after all in response to the famous jeering | E |
| invitation and that the Christ who came down was a cadaver Man | F |
| tegna's dead Christ looks exactly like a skidroad bum fished by the | G |
| cops out of the Mississippi in autumn just before daylight and hurried | H |
| off in a tarpaulin shrouded garbage truck and deposited in another | A |
| tangle of suicides and befuddled drunkards at the rear entrance to | I |
| the University of Minnesota medical school Eternity is a vast space | J |
| of distances as well as a curving infinity of time | K |
| No doubt the exhibition in noble Padova will be a glory to behold | L |
| But there is a littler glory that I love best It is a story which so | M |
| intensely ought to be real that it is real | N |
| One afternoon the mature medieval master Cimabue was taking | E |
| a walk in the countryside and paused in the shade to watch a shep | O |
| herd boy The child was trying to scratch sketches of his lambs on | P |
| a boulder at the edge of the field He used nothing for he could | Q |
| find nothing but a little sharp pebble | R |
| Cimabue took the shepherd boy home with him and gave him | S |
| some parchment and a nail or a crayon or something or other and | B |
| began to show him how to draw and form lines into the grandeur | T |
| of faces other than the sweet faces of sheep | U |
| The shepherd boy was Giotto and he learned how to draw and | B |
| form lines into the grandeur of faces other than the sweet faces of | V |
| sheep I don't give a damn whether you believe this story or not I | W |
| do I have seen faces of angels drawn by Giotto if angels do not | X |
| look like Giotto's angels they have been neglecting their health | Y |
| behind God's back | Z |
| One of my idle wishes is to find that field where Cimabue stood | Q |
| in the shade and watched the boy Giotto scratching his stone with | A2 |
| his pebble | R |
| I would not be so foolish as to prefer the faces of the boy's lambs | B2 |
| to the faces of his angels one has to act his age sooner or later | A |
| Still this little planet of rocks and grass is all we have to start | C2 |
| with How pretty it would be the sweet faces of the boy Giotto's | B2 |
| lambs gouged with infinite and still uncertain and painful care on | P |
| the side of a boulder at the edge of a country field | D2 |
| I wonder how long Cimabue stood watching before he said any | E2 |
| thing I'll bet he watched for a very long time He was Cimabue | F2 |
| I wonder how long Giotto worked before he noticed that he was | B2 |
| being watched I'll bet he worked a very long time He was Giotto | D2 |
| He probably paused every so often to take a drink of water and | D2 |
| tend to the needs of his sheep and then returned patiently to his | B2 |
| patient boulder before he heard over his shoulder in the twilight | D2 |
| the courtesy of the Italian good evening from the countryside man | F |
| who stood certainly out of the little daylight left to the shepherd | D2 |
| and his sheep alike | G2 |
| I wonder where that boulder is I wonder if the sweet faces of | V |
| the lambs are still scratched on its sunlit side | D2 |
| By God I know this much Worse men than Giotto have lived | D2 |
| longer than Giotto lived | D2 |
| And uglier things than Giotto's wobbly scratches on a coarse | B2 |
| boulder at the edge of a grassy field are rotting and toppling into | D2 |
| decay at this very moment By the time I reach Padova at fifteen | H2 |
| minutes past four this afternoon I wouldn't be a bit surprised to | D2 |
| hear that Rockefeller's Mall in Albany New York had begun to sag | I2 |
| and ooze its grandiose slime all over the surrounding city of the | G |
| plain and it will stink in the nostrils of God Almighty like the incense | B2 |
| burned and offered up as a putrid gift on the altars of the Lord | D2 |
| while the King Jeroboam the Second imprisoned the righteous for | J2 |
| silver and sold the poor for the buckles on a pair of shoes | B2 |
| Giotto's boyish hand scratched the sweet faces of lambs on a | G |
| coarse stone | K2 |
| I wonder where the stone is I will never live to see it | D2 |
| I lived to see the Mall in Albany though | M |
| In one of the mature Giotto's greatest glories a huge choir of his | B2 |
| unutterably beautiful angels are lifting their faces and are becoming | E |
| the sons of the morning singing out of pure happiness the praises | B2 |
| of God | D2 |
| Far back in the angelic choir a slightly smaller angel has folded | D2 |
| his wings He has turned slightly away from the light and lifted his | B2 |
| hands You cannot even see his face I don't know why he is weeping | E |
| But I love him best | D2 |
| I think he must be wondering how long it will take Giotto to | D2 |
| remember him give him a drink of water and take him back home | L2 |
| to the fold before it gets dark and shepherd and sheep alike lose | B2 |
| their way in the darkness of the countryside | D2 |
James Arlington Wright
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