Dolores Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCCDD EFFEEG GHHIIJ KLKL MNNNOMPQ RRRDSDSTIS he well blessed who has no eyes to scan | A |
The woeful things that shadow all our life | B |
The latent brute behind the eyes of man | A |
The place and power gained and stained by strife | B |
The weakly victims driven to the wall | C |
The subtle cruelties that meet us all | C |
Like eyes from darksome places Blessed is he | D |
Who such sad things is never doomed to see | D |
- | |
The crust of common life is worn by time | E |
And shines deception as a thin veneer | F |
The raw plank hides or as the frozen mere | F |
Holds drowned men embedded in its slime | E |
The ninety eat their bread of death and crime | E |
And sin and sorrow that the ten may thrive | G |
- | |
O moaning sea of life the few who dive | G |
Beneath thy waters faint and short of breath | H |
Not Dante like who cannot swim in death | H |
And view its secrets but must swiftly rise | I |
They meet the light with introverted eyes | I |
And hands that clutch a few dim mysteries | J |
- | |
Our life a harp is with unnumbered strings | K |
And tones and symphonies but our poor skill | L |
Some shallow notes from its great music brings | K |
We know it there but vainly wish and will | L |
- | |
O things symbolic Things that mock our sense | M |
Our five fold pitiable sense and say | N |
A thousand senses could not show one day | N |
As sight infinite sees it fruitful clay | N |
And budding bough and nature great with child | O |
And chill with doom and death is all so dense | M |
That our dull thought can never read thy words | P |
Or sweep with knowing hand thy hidden chords | Q |
- | |
Have men not fallen from fair heights once trod | R |
By nobler minds who saw the works of God | R |
The flowers and living things still undefiled | R |
And spoke one language with them And can we | D |
In countless generations each more pure | S |
Than that preceding come at last to see | D |
Thy symbols full of meaning and be sure | S |
That what we read is all they have to tell | T |
John Boyle O'reilly
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