The Legend Of The Horseshoe Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABCDDEEFFEG FFFFHHIIFFFFJKGGFF LLMMFFNNEEKJ FFFFOOGGFFEEPLFFQRFF FF

WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earthA
Unknown despised of humble birthA
And on Him many a youth attendedB
His words they seldom comprehendedC
It ever seem'd to Him most meetD
To hold His court in open streetD
As under heaven's broad canopyE
One speaks with greater libertyE
The teachings of His blessed wordF
From out His holy mouth were heardF
Each market to a fane turn'd HeE
With parable and simileG
-
One day as tow'rd a town He rovedF
In peace of mind with those He lovedF
Upon the path a something gleam'dF
A broken horseshoe 'twas it seem'dF
So to St Peter thus He spakeH
That piece of iron prythee takeH
St Peter's thoughts had gone astrayI
He had been musing on his wayI
Respecting the world's governmentF
A dream that always gives contentF
For in the head 'tis check'd by noughtF
This ever was his dearest thoughtF
For him this prize was far too meanJ
Had it a crown and sceptre beenK
But surely 'twasn't worth the troubleG
For half a horseshoe to bend doubleG
And so he turn'd away his headF
As if he heard not what was saidF
-
The Lord forbearing tow'rd all menL
Himself pick'd up the horseshoe thenL
He ne'er again like this stoop'd downM
And when at length they reach'd the townM
Before a smithy He remain'dF
And there a penny for 't obtain'dF
As they the market place went byN
Some beauteous cherries caught His eyeN
Accordingly He bought as manyE
As could be purchased for a pennyE
And then as oft His wont had beenK
Placed them within His sleeve unseenJ
-
They went out by another gateF
O'er plains and fields proceeding straightF
No house or tree was near the spotF
The sun was bright the day was hotF
In short the weather being suchO
A draught of water was worth muchO
The Lord walk'd on before them allG
And let unseen a cherry fallG
St Peter rush'd to seize it holdF
As though an apple 'twere of goldF
His palate much approv'd the berryE
The Lord ere long another cherryE
Once more let fall upon the plainP
St Peter forthwith stoop'd againL
The Lord kept making him thus bendF
To pick up cherries without endF
For a long time the thing went onQ
The Lord then said in cheerful toneR
Had'st thou but moved when thou wert bidF
Thou of this trouble had'st been ridF
The man who small things scorns will nextF
By things still smaller be perplex'dF

Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe



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