The Quaker Alumni Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCC DDEE FFGG HHIJ KKLL MMHH NNOO PPQQ RRNN SSTT UUVV HHNN WWEE JJXX YZA2B2 C2C2D2D2 E2E2NN OONN NNNN MMNN QQQQ HHLL F2F2ZZ LG2EE NNH2H2 YZI2I2 J2J2K2L2 LLHH M2M2N2N2 JJEE F2F2NN MMXX O2O2OO OONN NNOO NNNN P2P2H2H2 Q2Q2NN R2R2OO S2N

From the well springs of Hudson the sea cliffs of MaineA
Grave men sober matrons you gather againB
And with hearts warmer grown as your heads grow more coolC
Play over the old game of going to schoolC
-
All your strifes and vexations your whims and complaintsD
You were not saints yourselves if the children of saintsD
All your petty self seekings and rivalries doneE
Round the dear Alma Mater your hearts beat as oneE
-
How widely soe'er you have strayed from the foldF
Though your 'thee' has grown 'you ' and your drab blue and goldF
To the old friendly speech and the garb's sober formG
Like the heart of Argyle to the tartan you warmG
-
But the first greetings over you glance round the hallH
Your hearts call the roll but they answer not allH
Through the turf green above them the dead cannot hearI
Name by name in the silence falls sad as a tearJ
-
In love let us trust they were summoned so soonK
rom the morning of life while we toil through its noonK
They were frail like ourselves they had needs like our ownL
And they rest as we rest in God's mercy aloneL
-
Unchanged by our changes of spirit and frameM
Past now and henceforward the Lord is the sameM
Though we sink in the darkness His arms break our fallH
And in death as in life He is Father of allH
-
We are older our footsteps so light in the playN
Of the far away school time move slower to dayN
Here a beard touched with frost there a bald shining crownO
And beneath the cap's border gray mingles with brownO
-
But faith should be cheerful and trust should be gladP
And our follies and sins not our years make us sadP
Should the heart closer shut as the bonnet grows primQ
And the face grow in length as the hat grows in brimQ
-
Life is brief duty grave but with rain folded wingsR
Of yesterday's sunshine the grateful heart singsR
And we of all others have reason to payN
The tribute of thanks and rejoice on our wayN
-
For the counsels that turned from the follies of youthS
For the beauty of patience the whiteness of truthS
For the wounds of rebuke when love tempered its edgeT
For the household's restraint and the discipline's hedgeT
-
For the lessons of kindness vouchsafed to the leastU
Of the creatures of God whether human or beastU
Bringing hope to the poor lending strength to the frailV
In the lanes of the city the slave hut and jailV
-
For a womanhood higher and holier by allH
Her knowledge of good than was Eve ere her fallH
Whose task work of duty moves lightly as playN
Serene as the moonlight and warm as the dayN
-
And yet more for the faith which embraces the wholeW
Of the creeds of the ages the life and the soulW
Wherein letter and spirit the same channel runE
And man has not severed what God has made oneE
-
For a sense of the Goodness revealed everywhereJ
As sunshine impartial and free as the airJ
For a trust in humanity Heathen or JewX
And a hope for all darkness the Light shineth throughX
-
Who scoffs at our birthright the words of the seersY
And the songs of the bards in the twilight of yearsZ
All the foregleams of wisdom in santon and sageA2
In prophet and priest are our true heritageB2
-
The Word which the reason of Plato discernedC2
The truth as whose symbol the Mithra fire burnedC2
The soul of the world which the Stoic but guessedD2
In the Light Universal the Quaker confessedD2
-
No honors of war to our worthies belongE2
Their plain stem of life never flowered into songE2
But the fountains they opened still gush by the wayN
And the world for their healing is better to dayN
-
He who lies where the minster's groined arches curve downO
To the tomb crowded transept of England's renownO
The glorious essayist by genius enthronedN
Whose pen as a sceptre the Muses all ownedN
-
Who through the world's pantheon walked in his prideN
Setting new statues up thrusting old ones asideN
And in fiction the pencils of history dippedN
To gild o'er or blacken each saint in his cryptN
-
How vainly he labored to sully with blameM
The white bust of Penn in the niche of his fameM
Self will is self wounding perversity blindN
On himself fell the stain for the Quaker designedN
-
For the sake of his true hearted father before himQ
For the sake of the dear Quaker mother that bore himQ
For the sake of his gifts and the works that outlive himQ
And his brave words for freedom we freely forgive himQ
-
There are those who take note that our numbers are smallH
New Gibbons who write our decline and our fallH
But the Lord of the seed field takes care of His ownL
And the world shall yet reap what our sowers have sownL
-
The last of the sect to his fathers may goF2
Leaving only his coat for some Barnum to showF2
But the truth will outlive him and broaden with yearsZ
Till the false dies away and the wrong disappearsZ
-
Nothing fails of its end Out of sight sinks the stoneL
In the deep sea of time but the circles sweep onG2
Till the low rippled murmurs along the shores runE
And the dark and dead waters leap glad in the sunE
-
Meanwhile shall we learn in our ease to forgetN
To the martyrs of Truth and of Freedom our debtN
Hide their words out of sight like the garb that they woreH2
And for Barclay's Apology offer one moreH2
-
Shall we fawn round the priestcraft that glutted the shearsY
And festooned the stocks with our grandfathers' earsZ
Talk of Woolman's unsoundness count Penn heterodoxI2
And take Cotton Mather in place of George FoxI2
-
Make our preachers war chaplains quote Scripture to takeJ2
The hunted slave back for Onesimus' sakeJ2
Go to burning church candles and chanting in choirK2
And on the old meeting house stick up a spireL2
-
No the old paths we'll keep until better are shownL
Credit good where we find it abroad or our ownL
And while 'Lo here' and 'Lo there' the multitude callH
Be true to ourselves and do justice to allH
-
The good round about us we need not refuseM2
Nor talk of our Zion as if we were JewsM2
But why shirk the badge which our fathers have wornN2
Or beg the world's pardon for having been bornN2
-
We need not pray over the Pharisee's prayerJ
Nor claim that our wisdom is Benjamin's shareJ
Truth to us and to others is equal and oneE
Shall we bottle the free air or hoard up the sunE
-
Well know we our birthright may serve but to showF2
How the meanest of weeds in the richest soil growF2
But we need not disparage the good which we holdN
Though the vessels be earthen the treasure is goldN
-
Enough and too much of the sect and the nameM
What matters our label so truth be our aimM
The creed may be wrong but the life may be trueX
And hearts beat the same under drab coats or blueX
-
So the man be a man let him worship at willO2
In Jerusalem's courts or on Gerizim's hillO2
When she makes up her jewels what cares yon good townO
For the Baptist of Wayland the Quaker of BrownO
-
And this green favored island so fresh and seablownO
When she counts up the worthies her annals have knownO
Never waits for the pitiful gaugers of sectN
To measure her love and mete out her respectN
-
Three shades at this moment seem walking her strandN
Each with head halo crowned and with palms in his handN
Wise Berkeley grave Hopkins and smiling sereneO
On prelate and puritan Channing is seenO
-
One holy name bearing no longer they needN
Credentials of party and pass words of creedN
The new song they sing hath a threefold accordN
And they own one baptism one faith and one LordN
-
But the golden sands run out occasions like theseP2
Glide swift into shadow like sails on the seasP2
While we sport with the mosses and pebbles ashoreH2
They lessen and fade and we see them no moreH2
-
Forgive me dear friends if my vagrant thoughts seemQ2
Like a school boy's who idles and plays with his themeQ2
Forgive the light measure whose changes displayN
The sunshine and rain of our brief April dayN
-
There are moments in life when the lip and the eyeR2
Try the question of whether to smile or to cryR2
And scenes and reunions that prompt like our ownO
The tender in feeling the playful in toneO
-
I who never sat down with the boys and the girlsS2
At tN

John Greenleaf Whittier



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