To Alexander Galt, The Sculptor Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Alas he's cold	A
Cold as the marble which his fingers wrought	B
Cold but not dead for each embodied thought	B
Of his which he from the Ideal brought	B
To live in stone	C
Assures him immortality of fame	D
	-
Galt is not dead	E
Only too soon	F
We saw him climb	G
Up to his pedestal where equal Time	G
And coming generations in the noon	F
Of his full reputation yet shall stand	H
To pay just homage to his noble name	D
	-
Our Poet of the Quarries only sleeps	I
He cleft his pathway up the future's steeps	I
And now rests from his labors	I
	-
Hence 'tis I say	I
For him there is no death	J
Only the stopping of the pulse and breath	J
But simple breath is not the all in all	K
Man hath it but in common with the brutes	I
Life is in action and in brave pursuits	I
By what we dream and having dreamt dare do	L
We hold our places in the world's large view	L
And still have part in the affairs of men	M
When the long sleep is on us	I
	-
He dreamt and made his dreams perpetual things	I
Fit for the rugged cell of penitential saints	I
Or sumptuous halls of Kings	I
And showed himself a Poet in the Art	N
He chiselled Lyrics with a touch so fine	O
With such a tender beauty of their own	C
That rarest songs broke out from every line	O
And verse was audible in voiceless stone	C
His Psyche soft in beauty and in grace	I
Waits for her lover in the Western breeze	I
And a swift smile irradiates her face	I
As though she heard him whisper in the trees	I
	-
His passion stricken Sappho seems alive	P
Before her none can ever feel alone	C
For on her face emotions so do strive	P
That we forget she is but pallid stone	C
And all her tragedy of love and woe	Q
Is told us in the chilly marble's snow	Q
	-
Bacchante with her vine crowned hair	R
Leaps to the cymbal measured dance	I
With such a passion in her air	R
Upon her brow upon her lips	I
As thrills you to the finger tips	I
And fascinates your glance	I
	-
These are as 'twere three of his Songs in stone	C
The first full of the tenderness of love	S
Speaking of moon rise and the low wind's call	K
The second of love's tragedy and fall	K
The third of shrill mad laughter and the tone	C
Of festal music on whose rise and fall	K
Swift footed dancers follow	Q
	-
Nobler than these sweet lyric dreams	I
Dreamt out beside Italia's streams	I
He'd worked some Epic studies out in part	N
To leave them incomplete his chiefest pain	T
When the low pulses of his failing heart	N
Admonished him of death	J
	-
Ay he had soared upon a lofty wing	U
Wet with the purple and encrimsoned rain	T
Of dreams whose clouds had floated o'er his brain	T
Until it ached with glories	I
	-
If you would see his Epic studies go	Q
Go with the student from his dim arcade	V
Halt where the Statesman standeth in the hall	K
And mark how careless voices hush and fall	K
And all light talk to sudden pause is brought	B
In presence of the noble type of thought	B
Embodied Independence which he wrought	B
From stone of far Carrara	W
	-
View his Columbus Hero grand and meek	X
Scarred 'mid the battle's long protracted brunt	Y
Palos and Salvador stamped on his front	Y
With not a line about it poor or weak	X
A second Atlas bearing on his brow	Z
A New World just discovered	A2
	-
Go see Virginia's wise majestic face	I
With some faint shadow of her coming woe	Q
Writ on the broad expansive virgin snow	Q
Of her imperial forehead just as though	Q
Some disembodied Prophet hand of eld	A2
The Sculptor's chisel in its touch had held	A2
Foreshadowing her coming crown of thorns	I
Her crown and her great glory	B2
These of the many but they are enough	C2
Enough to show that I have rightly said	A2
The marble's snow bids back from him decay	I
He sleepeth long but sleeps not with the dead	A2
Who die and are forgotten ere the clay	I
Heaped over them hath hardened in the sun	D2
	-
This much of Galt the Artist	A2
Of the man	E2
Fain would I speak but in sad sooth I can	E2
Ne'er find the words wherein to tell	F2
How he was loved or yet how well	F2
He did deserve it	A2
All things of beauty were to him delight	A2
The sunset's clouds the turret rent apart	A2
The stars which glitter in the noon of night	A2
Spoke in one voice unto his mind and heart	A2
His love of Nature made his love of Art	A2
And had his span	E2
Of life been longer	G2
He had surely done	D2
Such noble things that he	B2
Like to a soaring eagle would have been	H2
At last lost in the sun	D2

James Barron Hope

To Alexander Galt, The Sculptor Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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