Grace Poem Rhyme Scheme

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WHO is it beams the merriest	A
At killing a man the laughing one	B
You are the one I nominate	A
God of the rivers of Babylon	C
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	-
A hundred times I've taken the mules	D
And started early through the lane	E
And come to the broken gate and looked	A
And there my partner was again	F
Sitting on top of a sorrel horse	G
And picking the burrs from its matted mane	E
Saying he thought he'd help me work	H
That field of corn before the rain	E
And I never spoke of the dollar a day	A
It's no use causing hired men pain	E
But slipped it into his hand at dark	I
While he undid the coupling chain	E
And whistled a gospel tune and knew	J
He'd join in strong on the refrain	E
	-
	-
For I would pitch the treble high	K
'Down at the cross where my Savior died '	-
And then he rolled along the bass	L
'There did I bury my sin and pride '	-
	-
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Sinful pride of a hired man	M
Out of a hired woman born	N
I'm thinking now how he was saved	A
One day while plowing in the corn	N
We plowed that steamy morning through	J
I with the mule whose side was torn	N
And keeping an eye on the mule I saw	O
That the sun looked high and the man looked worn	N
I would take him home to dinner with me	P
And there my father's dinner horn	N
	-
	-
The sun blazed after dinner so	Q
We sat a while by the maple trees	R
Thinking of mother's pickles and pies	S
And smoking a friendly pipe at ease	R
I broached a point of piety	P
For pious men are quick to tease	R
Was it really true John dipped his crowd	A
Down in the muddy Jordan's lees	R
	-
	-
And couldn't the Baptists backslide too	J
If only they went on Methodist sprees	R
And finally back to the field we went	A
The corn was well above my knees	R
The weeds were more than ankle high	K
And dangerous customers were these	R
We went to work in the heat again	F
I hoped we'd get a bit of breeze	R
And thought the hired man was used	A
To God's most blazing cruelties	R
	-
	-
Sundays the hired man would pray	A
To live in the sunshine of his face	T
Now here was answer come complete	A
Rather an overdose of grace	T
	-
	-
He fell in the furrow an honest place	T
And an easy place for a man to fall	U
His horse went marching blindly on	C
In a beautiful dream of a great fat stall	U
And God shone on in merry mood	A
For it was a foolish kind of sprawl	U
And I found a hulk of heaving meat	A
That wouldn't answer me at all	U
And a fresh breeze made the young corn dance	V
To a bright green glorious carnival	W
	-
	-
And really is it not a gift	A
To smile and be divinely gay	A
To rise above a circumstance	V
And smile distressing scenes away	A
	-
	-
But this was a thing that I had said	A
I was so forward and untamed	A
'I will not worship wickedness	X
Though it be God's I am ashamed	A
For all his mercies God be thanked	A
But for his tyrannies be blamed	A
He shall not have my love alone	Y
With loathing too his name is named '	-
	-
	-
I caught him up with all my strength	Z
And with a silly stumbling tread	A
I dragged him over the soft brown dirt	A
And dumped him down beside the shed	A
	-
	-
I thought of the prayers the fool had prayed	A
To his God and I was seeing red	A
When all of a sudden he gave a heave	A2
And then with shuddering vomited	A
And God who had just received full thanks	B2
For all his kindly daily bread	A
	-
	-
Now called it back again perhaps	C2
To see that his birds of the air were fed	A
Not mother's dainty dinner now	D2
A rather horrible mess instead	A
Yet all of it God required of him	E2
Before the fool was duly dead	A
	-
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Even of deaths there is a choice	F2
I've seen you give a good one God	A
But he in his vomit laid him down	G2
Denied the decency of blood	A
	-
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If silence from the dead I swore	H2
There shall be cursing from the quick	I2
But I began to vomit too	A
Cursing and vomit ever so thick	I2
The dead lay down and I did too	A
Two ashy idiots take your pick	I2
A little lower than angels he made us	X
Hear his excellent rhetoric	I2
A credit we were to him half of us dead	A
The other half of us lying sick	I2
	-
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The little clouds came Sunday dressed	A
To do a holy reverence	J2
The young corn smelled its sweetest too	A
And made him goodly frankincense	K2
The thrushes offered music up	L2
Choired in the wood beyond the fence	K2
	-
	-
And while his praises filled the earth	M2
A solitary crow sailed by	K
And while the whole creation sang	N2
He cawed not knowing how to sigh	K

John Crowe Ransom

Grace Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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