Palm Sunday Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABC DCCCEFEF CCGGHIHI CCJJHHHH KKLMENEN OOPPIGIG QQRRBCCC| And He answered and said unto them I tell you that if | A |
| these should hold their peace the stones would immediately | B |
| cry out St Luke xix | C |
| - | |
| - | |
| Ye whose hearts are beating high | D |
| With the pulse of Poesy | C |
| Heirs of more than royal race | C |
| Framed by Heaven's peculiar grace | C |
| God's own work to do on earth | E |
| If the word be not too bold | F |
| Giving virtue a new birth | E |
| And a life that ne'er grows old | F |
| - | |
| Sovereign masters of all hearts | C |
| Know ye who hath set your parts | C |
| He who gave you breath to sing | G |
| By whose strength ye sweep the string | G |
| He hath chosen you to lead | H |
| His Hosannas here below | I |
| Mount and claim your glorious meed | H |
| Linger not with sin and woe | I |
| - | |
| But if ye should hold your peace | C |
| Deem not that the song would cease | C |
| Angels round His glory throne | J |
| Stars His guiding hand that own | J |
| Flowers that grow beneath our feet | H |
| Stones in earth's dark womb that rest | H |
| High and low in choir shall meet | H |
| Ere His Name shall be unblest | H |
| - | |
| Lord by every minstrel tongue | K |
| Be Thy praise so duly sung | K |
| That Thine angels' harps may ne'er | L |
| Fail to find fit echoing here | M |
| We the while of meaner birth | E |
| Who in that divinest spell | N |
| Dare not hope to join on earth | E |
| Give us grace to listen well | N |
| - | |
| But should thankless silence seal | O |
| Lips that might half Heaven reveal | O |
| Should bards in idol hymns profane | P |
| The sacred soul enthralling strain | P |
| As in this bad world below | I |
| Noblest things find vilest using | G |
| Then Thy power and mercy show | I |
| In vile things noble breath infusing | G |
| - | |
| Then waken into sound divine | Q |
| The very pavement of Thy shrine | Q |
| Till we like Heaven's star sprinkled floor | R |
| Faintly give back what we adore | R |
| Childlike though the voices be | B |
| And untunable the parts | C |
| Thou wilt own the minstrelsy | C |
| If it flow from childlike hearts | C |
John Keble
(1)
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