First Sunday After Easter Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Seemeth it but a small thing unto you that the God of	A
Israel hath separated you from the congregation of Israel	B
to bring you near to Himself Numbers xvi	A
	-
	-
First Father of the holy seed	C
If yet invoked in hour of need	C
Thou count me for Thine own	D
Not quite an outcast if I prove	A
Thou joy'st in miracles of love	A
Hear from Thy mercy throne	D
	-
Upon Thine altar's horn of gold	E
Help me to lay my trembling hold	E
Though stained with Christian gore	F
The blood of souls by Thee redeemed	G
But while I roved or idly dreamed	G
Lost to be found no more	F
	-
For oft when summer leaves were bright	H
And every flower was bathed in light	H
In sunshine moments past	I
My wilful heart would burst away	J
From where the holy shadow lay	J
Where heaven my lot had cast	I
	-
I thought it scorn with Thee to dwell	K
A Hermit in a silent cell	K
While gaily sweeping by	L
Wild Fancy blew his bugle strain	M
And marshalled all his gallant train	M
In the world's wondering eye	L
	-
I would have joined him but as oft	N
Thy whispered warnings kind and soft	O
My better soul confessed	P
My servant let the world alone	D
Safe on the steps of Jesus' throne	D
Be tranquil and be blest	P
	-
Seems it to thee a niggard hand	Q
That nearest Heaven has bade thee stand	Q
The ark to touch and bear	R
With incense of pure heart's desire	S
To heap the censer's sacred fire	S
The snow white Ephod wear	R
	-
Why should we crave the worldling's wreath	T
On whom the Savour deigned to breathe	U
To whom His keys were given	V
Who lead the choir where angels meet	W
With angels' food our brethren greet	W
And pour the drink of Heaven	V
	-
When sorrow all our heart would ask	X
We need not shun our daily task	X
And hide ourselves for calm	Y
The herbs we seek to heal our woe	Z
Familiar by our pathway grow	Z
Our common air is balm	Y
	-
Around each pure domestic shrine	A2
Bright flowers of Eden bloom and twine	A2
Our hearths are altars all	B2
The prayers of hungry souls and poor	C2
Like armed angels at the door	F
Our unseen foes appal	B2
	-
Alms all around and hymns within	D2
What evil eye can entrance win	D2
Where guards like these abound	E2
If chance some heedless heart should roam	F2
Sure thought of these will lure it home	F2
Ere lost in Folly's round	E2
	-
O joys that sweetest in decay	J
Fall not like withered leaves away	J
But with the silent breath	G2
Of violets drooping one by one	V
Soon as their fragrant task is done	V
Are wafted high in death	G2

John Keble

First Sunday After Easter Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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