A Memorial Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCCBDEDEDFGGBHBH FFEIIEJJJBBJ BBBBEEDFBBAAKFKFBLBB BLMMBNEOBE BBPPQQEEBBBBRSSEREEE FFAEAATAETUU ABABBBAAAAAAEEEEEVEW EBEBE XEXEEEAEAEABABEUEEUE BBBBBBBBAAYWYEEBBEEW WAAAAATCCZAAEEBBEA2A A2A BCCBBBB2B2A2AA2AAAEA A2AEA2EEA2EA2 BBC2C2UBBUEEBD2BD2AB BA BA2BAA2ABBWBBWBBBWW

F TA
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The cord broke and the tentB
Slipped and the silken roofC
Lay prone beneath the viewless hoofC
Of the deliberate firmamentB
Yet cared we not how should we careD
Knowing that labourless now he breathesE
A golden paradisal airD
Where with more certain craft he wreathesE
Bright braids of words more wise and fairD
Than ever his earthly fabrics wereF
That his unwavering eyes made freshG
Purged and regarbed in fadeless fleshG
What he then darkly guessed beholdB
And watch with an abiding joyH
The eternal mysteries unfoldB
Which do his now transfigured songs evermore employH
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Brother yet great thy powerF
Thou stood'st as on a towerF
Small 'neath the stars yet high above the fieldsE
In thy alembic songI
Imagination strongI
Distilled what essences the quest to mortals yieldsE
This thy reward well wonJ
For every morning's sunJ
Found thy heart's firm allegiance still unshakenJ
No temporal ache or smartB
Drave Beauty from thy heartB
And by thy mighty mistress never wast forsakenJ
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Yes for though stringent was the testB
When that thy trial was bitterestB
Steadfast thou did'st remain unshodB
The harrows of Pain thy feet once trodB
Humiliate as thy sad song tellsE
Before the vault's white sentinelsE
Friendless and faint thou sojourned'st thereD
A bowed brave timid wandererF
A lonely nomad of the spiritB
Who did a triple curse inheritB
Hunger regret and memoryA
Yet never did they vanquish theeA
When nighest broken most aloneK
Thy unassuag d thoughts could clamberF
To beauty on her ageless throneK
Thou wert as one in torture chamberF
Who sees the blue through an open casementB
And hammers his soul to endure the timeL
Of his corporeal abasementB
Nor writhed'st at thine or others' faultB
But with grim tenderness did saltB
Thy cicatrices with a rhymeL
Not the most sable flame of gloomM
Could penetrate thy inmost roomM
But through the walls thy spirit suckedB
Into that cloistral hermitageN
Stray lovely things moonbeams and snowsE
The far sky shed into thy cageO
And from the very gutter pluckedB
A lost and mired campestral roseE
-
Ended that purgatorial periodB
Filled was thy wallet and thy feet were shodB
The leaden weights were moved the rack withdrawnP
Thou didst traverse the dewy fields of dawnP
Watch sunsets blazoning over upland turfQ
Pull poppies from the frontiers of the surfQ
Dwelled'st with love and human eyesE
Vigilant calm and wiseE
But still as when thy bark did rideB
Derelict on the city's tideB
As then for penury now for prideB
Thy bodily senses were deniedB
Though they cried out and would not sleepR
Ascetic thou didst armour themS
Lest acid pleasure should eat thine art's pure gemS
Hourly the tempter's ambuscadesE
But thou didst guard the gates and keepR
Thy senses' hungry colonnadesE
Accessible but to Beauty's ministersE
Unlit by any ruby flame but hersE
Immuring so thy spirit eagerF
Within a body frail and meagreF
Far from the meads of earthly milk and honeyA
Yet franchised of more wondrous territoriesE
Like those poor Bedouin of Arabia the StonyA
Who roam spare fed and hollow eyed but freeA
By day to wander and by night to campT
In vast serenityA
Compassed by God's great silent gloriesE
The sun's gold splendour and the moon's white lampT
Folded and safe from harmU
Beneath the mighty sky's protecting armU
-
Ha but the Titan's ardourA
Wherewith thou scour'dst the vastB
To spoil the starry larderA
Of fruits of heavenly tasteB
Urania's fiercest servantB
With thirst as furnace ferventB
And serene burning browA
Worthy of thy great lineage thouA
Drankest without a shudderA
In proud humilityA
Milk from that vast prim val udderA
That swells for such as theeA
Milk from the fountains of the UniverseE
That cowards deem infected with a curseE
That flushes him who drinksE
Nor shrinksE
The exalted anguish of diurnal draughtsE
To a clear vision more intolerableV
In its blissful pain than love's most ardent shaftsE
Of the seats where she doth dwellW
She whom thou didst confessE
EnticedB
Thee hot to her throne to pressE
For the greater glory of ChristB
To uplift the curtains of her closed eyesE
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Not all was for thy learningX
Nor any mortal's elseE
Only for thy discerningX
Sporadic syllablesE
Of those supernal glancesE
Coffer of which her marble countenance isE
Yet vain was not the adventureA
Reluctant though the prizeE
Thou gainedst a debentureA
On the fringe of Beauty's eyesE
Such fragmentary trophyA
As some cross tunic'd knightB
From Saladin or SophyA
May have won in sword's despiteB
Not the dear polar shrinesE
Held captive by the PaynimU
But still as fruit of warsE
Some stone from Sion's linesE
Some relic that might sain himU
Of life's uncounted scarsE
-
Self dedicated anchoriteB
Never disdainful of the dustB
But conscious of the overcoming nightB
That must engulph the blooms and berries of lustB
And unforgetful of the enveloping day beyondB
Though a sweet show was spread for thy delightB
Resolved not to be so fondB
As in ephemeral gauds caparisonedB
To station feet upon a world of vapourA
Soft as a dream and fleeting as a taperA
Thou thoughtest nevertheless that thou shouldst occupyY
Thyself as it seemed to thee most worthilyW
Until the rapid hour when thou shouldst dieY
So in a world of seemingsE
Of shadows and of dreamingsE
Busied thyself to fashion and recordB
Unto the greater glory of thy LordB
For thy proud lady Beauty HisE
Most excellent and humble handmaid isE
Says one thy service was too ceremonialW
Thy vestments irised overmuch thy ritualW
Too elaborate and thy rubric too obscureA
Therefore thy gift of chant and orisonA
Beneath the perfect service men have doneA
O but thy notes were pureA
And in a day like this we now endureA
No fault it was in thee to set thy campT
Remote aloof aloofC
In a far fastness proofC
'Gainst the mephitic odours of the swampZ
Which being so no gainA
'Twere to explainA
An exquisiteness too meticulousE
Let us but say it pleased thee thusE
Dowered with imagination heavy fruitedB
To raise a column garlanded and flutedB
For Him thy heavenly abacusE
This was thine offering thou didst makeA2
In founded hope that HeA
The craftsman's best would takeA2
Well knowing its unobscure sincerityA
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The cord broke and the tentB
Slipped and the silken roofC
Lay prone beneath the viewless hoofC
Of the deliberate firmamentB
We still in this terrene abodeB
Forlorn must tread the difficult roadB
And all meek thanks and all beliefB2
Hardly suffice to rampart griefB2
For gone is Beauty's votary apostolicA2
And are her temples now delivered overA
To blindworms and libidinous goats that frolicA2
In places hallowed by that celestial loverA
Save only two or threeA
With undivided minds like theeA
None now remains that girdsE
The peregrinal loinA
None reverent of Beauty's holy tongueA2
But counterfeiters of her imaged coinA
Iconoclasts breakers of carven wordsE
Seekers of worthless treasure in the dungA2
Mock mages and cacophonous charlatansE
And pismire artisansE
Labouring to makeA2
Such mirrored replicas of Nature's faceE
As might the surface of a stagnant lakeA2
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Yet we should anger notB
Nor let that be forgotB
The testament of stateliest worthC2
He left us when he fled the earthC2
The mausoleum made of rhymeU
Fair in its unfrequented fieldB
Which shall invulnerably shieldB
His memory to the end of TimeU
The house with curtain flaming hallsE
And roof of gold and jewelled wallsE
For which the fisher sank his netB
Into the deepest pools of speechD2
Scooping rich conchs and ribbons wetB
That a less venturous could not reachD2
The hunter tracked the metaphorA
On many a foamy silver coastB
A hundred leagues beyond the mostB
Fabulous Tellurian shoreA
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Magnificent he was and mildB
Glad to be still and glad to speakA2
Daring yet delicate as a childB
Faithful compassionate and holyA
And being human strong and weakA2
And full of hope and melancholyA
No more than we able to shedB
Man's nature he inheritedB
Neither sin's garrison to killW
Yet at the last with constancy so greatB
As the world's vanities to abnegateB
Sternly to will the sacrifice of willW
Upon the altars of the UncreateB
So that he lived before he diedB
As one who hourly to himself deniedB
All joys save those that cannot pallW
Who having nothing yet had allW

John Collings Squire, Sir



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